Daughters: Prologue
by dghterjudy
Summary: The future is unlike anything she imagined at all. A journey through the most important chapters of Santana's life. Brittana AU. (Prologue for 3 part series)
1. Prologue

**Title:** Daughters

**Pairing:** Santana/Brittany

**Rating:** M (for language, sexual situations and mild recreational drug use)

**Summary:** The future is unlike anything she imagined at all. A journey through the most important chapters of Santana's life.

**a/n:** Behold the longest prologue, ever. Backstory to my fic series _Daughters_.

* * *

><p>PROLOGUE<p>

Santana watched most of her friends leave Lima after graduation; some to make their futures elsewhere, others to return home a few years later. She followed Brittany to college in Indiana when she got offered a full ride on a dance scholarship and her parents refused to let the unexpected opportunity go to waste. Santana's own were only so thrilled she wouldn't be attending community college after all that they all but packed her bags for her.

She half-assed a biology degree for two semesters, patiently waiting for Brittany to give up on the fashion merchandising classes she'd been struggling through, when Mike Chang showed up. He burst through the front door of their one-bedroom with an expensive bottle of champagne and offered Brittany a job. A real, life changing, move to Vegas for a year job. It happened so quickly that Santana didn't have time to think about their new future. Before she knew it, Brittany was hopping on a plane to the other side of the country and she was saying yes to Sue Sylvester's offer to take over the Cheerios the upcoming fall.

Back in Lima, she soon lost what little she had left. Her dad got a job offer in Virginia he couldn't afford to refuse and she found herself moving into an apartment with Quinn who, unsurprisingly, had never left. She spent the rest of her summer enduring Sue's training, scouting only the best 8th graders in town for her soon-to-be again nationally ranked cheerleading team, and missing her girlfriend terribly. Brittany's grueling schedule made it almost impossible for Santana to visit on the weekends, and Sue refused to give her any time off during the week to justify the expense of spending just a few hours a day together. When Brittany got too busy to talk on the phone for more than 10 minutes at a time, Santana finally let her go and broke it off.

A few weeks later she wouldn't remember much of her reasoning at the time, but she'd never forget how Quinn stayed up with her all night, listening to Santana sob about her failed relationship and making her breakfast before leaving to work on zero sleep.

* * *

><p>Finn knocked Rachel up shortly after everyone left for college, and it wasn't long before their relationship too went down the toilet with a resounding flush. From that moment on it was clear that Rachel resented her high school sweetheart for staying behind. She moved back in with her dads before she even popped. Santana had blamed her baby hormones to her face, but deep down she knew Rachel truly regretted giving Finn another year at home to save up for her New York City dreams. She would vehemently deny it a few years down the road, but they sort of bonded over the loss of their first loves that summer. Santana only started hanging out with Rachel by herself at the insistence of Quinn, who was attending the last few night courses she needed to get her real estate license. After work, she'd usually grab some take out and end up at the Berry's stuffing her face and swapping heartbreak stories with the other girl.<p>

At first it was awkward running into Finn at the hospital. Santana hadn't seen him since graduation and all she'd heard about him all month was how he selfishly refused to raise his child away from his family, right there in Lima. He looked tired and worried, like he hadn't had a wink of sleep since Rachel left him. In that moment, Santana understood. She smiled and hugged him tightly when he approached her.

"Congratulations Dad," she said, glancing up to meet his eyes as they lit up at the word.

"Thanks," Finn replied, returning her smile. "Where's Brittany?"

Santana's faltered and she dropped her eyes to his chest. "She's in Vegas."

"Oh?"

"She got a job, an awesome job. With Mike," she added, pulling away from him and folding her arms with a shrug. "He landed this ridiculous gig choreographing some new hip-hop Cirque du Soleil show and she's assisting."

"Oh wow."

"Yeah. She's making good money, and it's the opportunity of a lifetime, you know? She's gonna do great things." Her voice wavered over the last few words and Finn's eyes widened with realization. "It's okay," she shook her head quickly before he could ask her about it.

Finn pulled her back into a hug and didn't say anything else.

* * *

><p>The morning of his Bris ceremony, Santana texted Brittany a picture of Oscar. She was fast asleep by the time she responded halfway through the night.<p>

_OMG he looks just like Rachel! _

Then a just few seconds later…

_I miss you :(_

She didn't find the message until her alarm went off the next morning and she pouted, furiously fighting the way her eyes stung as she groggily typed a reply.

_I miss you, too._

They made contact at least once a day every one after that, even if some days all she got was a text to say hello in the morning or goodnight when she was already in bed sleeping.

Santana sunk her teeth into her new life as Coach Lopez and walked the halls of McKinley High with a newfound sense of pride. Much like Sue before her, making sure her Cheerios were winning national championships soon became her new mission in life. It was only during the rare occasion Brittany had time to call, usually in the middle of practice or late on Sunday evenings, that Santana dropped everything just to hear her voice again. Neither ever asked if the other was dating, keeping their short conversations to their jobs and how much they missed each other. No matter where life took them, that never, ever changed.

Even from a distance, Santana's love for Brittany somehow managed to grow.

* * *

><p>Puck returned before anyone realized he was gone. He told everyone he was back for a "visit" though he seemingly didn't have a job or any plans for the future. He'd started a band their senior year that played a few local gigs every week and truth be told, they weren't half bad. After graduation, a local radio station had thought just as much and asked them to join a club tour with a few other bands from the Ohio area.<p>

He came back different though, and Santana noticed the change right away. He was too serious, as if he'd gone off to boot camp instead of a party-fueled tour with a bunch of dudes and groupies. Santana let the attitude slide a few times until one night when he only cracked a smile after Santana said something she knew for a fact was worth laughter.

"Okay, what the fuck's with you, Puckerman?"

He chuckled and smiled before shrugging his shoulders. It drove Santana absolutely nuts.

"Whatever, it's late. Get out of my apartment. Some of us have work in the morning."

She kicked him out and didn't bother calling him the next day. She already had too much on her plate and didn't have time for his shit.

A few months later he showed up at school. Santana was shouting formations into her megaphone when she heard someone walking down the bleachers behind her. She stopped and turned at once to find him sitting there, staring up at her through dark sunglasses and a grim look on his face.

"What's the matter? What are you doing here?"

"Can we talk?"

Santana left her captain in charge and he followed her back to her office.

"I still can't believe you took this job," he said with a bemused grin as he glanced around the familiar room. Its walls were still littered in pictures and awards from previous teams, hers included.

"What do you want, Noah?"

Puck removed his shades and sat down, linking his fingers briefly before reaching a hand to pick imaginary pieces of lint from his jeans. Santana sighed anxiously and he finally looked up at her.

"I'm getting married."

"You're what?"

"I asked Rachel to marry me."

"Hold up," she shut her eyes and shook her head furiously, throwing her arms up in disbelief. "You asked _Rachel_? When the hell did this happen?"

Puck sucked his upper lip into his mouth and lowered his eyes. Santana's eyes widened.

"Wait, please tell me that's not your kid..."

"What? No!" He returned her look with bewildered eyes and challenged, "But I plan to raise him."

Pausing as Santana's eyes narrowed, he leaned back on the chair and let his shoulders slump with a heavy exhale. "In New York."

"Come again?"

"I got a stupid job recording jingles in Brooklyn. It's not glamorous but it'll pay the bills, and Rachel can finally go do her thing."

"That is the stupidest thing I've ever heard come out of your mouth, and that's saying a lot."

Puck leaned forward defensively again. "Look, I know it sounds like a dumb idea but I love her, okay? Tell me you wouldn't do the same for Brittany."

Santana paled, realizing at once that she hadn't. She'd let Brittany get on a plane without her and then ran back to Lima, for what? McKinley? The last place she'd ever imagined returning to, and yet here she was, alone. Brittany-less. Santana gulped.

As if realizing the can of worms he'd just opened, Puck quickly retreated. "I'm sorry. I just don't know who else to talk to. My mom loves Rachel and she's crazy in love with Oscar, but she's freaking out."

"As she should, Noah. She doesn't want to see you ruin your life over another girl."

"Ruin my life? Why does everyone think I'd make a shit dad?"

Santana shook her head again, "I didn't say that, don't put words in my mouth."

Puck sunk back into his chair in defeat and Santana sighed.

"What about Finn? Have you told him yet? Does he even know about you and Rachel?"

"No," he muttered guiltily. "We're getting married so we can move before he can stop us."

Santana gaped. "That's fucked up."

She watched incredulously as he ran a shaky hand over where his mohawk used to be. "I know," he simply admitted. "But she's gonna leave with or without me, and a custody battle will only put everyone through worse before the inevitable happens. He has to see this coming one way or another. At least I'll be there to make sure his kid's okay."

Santana scoffed. "He'll never see it that way. Would you?"

He shook his head 'no' and ran a pair of nervous hands over his face before dropping them to his lap with frustration. "Fuck."

"And he's gonna fight this whether you get married or not, so you might as well man up and tell him. He deserves as much. Don't let him find out through someone else, again."

Santana decided not to chastise him further that day and took him back to her and Quinn's to polish off a 24-pack of Bud Light. A few hours into catching up, Puck nonchalantly mentioned hooking up with Mike and Brittany during a stop in Vegas. Santana pretended not to need every detail, but asked anyway.

"How is she?"

Puck smiled knowingly and all but ignored her question. "Why'd did you break up with her, anyway? I thought you'd jump at the chance to move to Vegas for a year."

"She didn't exactly invite me."

"You needed an invitation?"

Santana shrugged. When they left for college it was different, they had always planned to go to school and it only made sense they went together. But when Mike showed up, offering Brittany the opportunity of a lifetime, she didn't feel it was her decision anymore. Never mind the fact that Brittany had looked absolutely perplexed by the idea of leaving without her, it still felt like Brittany's decision. Santana had spent her whole life telling Brittany what to do but her girlfriend was a star in her own right. Her future, no matter how differently people saw it, had always looked brighter to Santana than her own. She wouldn't take that away from the only person she had ever loved more than life. So she let Brittany follow her own path for once and promised to make it work from a distance.

_They say if you love something you should let it go and shit, _she thought.

But Santana only reluctantly did.

* * *

><p>Finn re-introduced his fist to Puck's face and took Rachel to court. Kurt hopped on the first flight from LA to intervene, but was mostly unsuccessful. He stuck around through the short trial though, and when it was all over, Santana, Quinn, Kurt, and Finn reunited over drinks at the Hummel's while Puck and Rachel took off to New York with the baby. She and Quinn had made sure to say their goodbyes before heading over; it had been a bit of a juggling act keeping their friendships intact with both sides fighting and the two of them left stuck in the middle. She made Puck promise to stay in touch this time, teased Rachel to remember the little people when she was famous, and the newlyweds were off.<p>

"I hate that we're getting together over such hideous circumstances," Kurt sighed into Santana's ear while his dad and Finn made drunken plans to visit New York over the holidays. "Not that I'm complaining about spending Christmas in New York, but I miss home. I was really looking forward to spending my break catching up with everyone."

Santana smiled warmly at him. "There isn't much to catch up with, Lima still sucks."

"How's the new job? Is commanding the army nearly as fun as it sounds?"

"In a weird way," she shrugged. "I have a strong team I know I can take to nationals, so that's cake, but working with our old teachers is beyond bizarre. Mr. Shue just loves to corner me in the teacher's lounge to pick my brain about his new glee kids. I don't know where he gets the idea that I give a shit. I already told him he could recruit as many of my Cheerios as he wanted just as long as our schedules didn't interfere."

Kurt made a face at her. "You're right, that is weird."

"How about you? How's UCLA?"

"Good! Trying to stay out of trouble and failing miserably." He said with a wink. "I hear Britt and Mike are killing in Vegas."

Santana nodded, glancing over at Quinn who was quietly watching Finn and his dad have a passionate discussion about family values.

"You miss her?"

The question made her chest hurt. As much as she avoided the inquiry, her friends still managed to slip it into every conversation. They'd been through enough with the two of them not to question the current state of their relationship, but Santana still resented the intrusion. She turned back to look at him through indignant eyes.

"What do you think?"

Kurt flashed a sympathetic smile and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, squeezing her close. "She misses you, too. She's only emailed me back a few times but she's told me as much."

"I haven't seen her in six months, K," Santana relented with a sigh. "That's the longest we've ever been apart, and I don't even know what she's up to. I don't think I want to know."

"What have _you_ been up to?" He raised an eyebrow curiously.

"Work," Santana admitted sadly. "That's it. I don't have a life outside my Cheerios. I'm turning into Sue fucking Sylvester and I hate it."

"You only hate it because she's over there and not waiting for you at home every day. And Tanny, chances are work is all Britt has any time for, too. Don't you think?"

Santana had told herself the same thing repeatedly. Brittany barely had time to call; she couldn't possibly have time to meet someone new. _Right? _

She sighed despondently as her mind once again began to race over a hundred different scenarios in which her ex-girlfriend fell for another beautiful dancer and forgot all about Santana in Lima.

"You're right," she half-lied to weasel herself out of the conversation and her thoughts.

Luckily at that point Kurt was also stealing glances at Quinn, who remained quiet and bit her lip thoughtfully every time Finn mentioned his son's name. He must have thought the same as Santana because he smiled sadly and sighed.

"Love is fucked up," Kurt decided, shaking his head.

* * *

><p>Matt threw a Christmas party a few weeks before the holiday and everyone that was already in town showed up. It was particularly nice to catch up with Tina who'd brought along her new college boyfriend, a buffed-up Canadian white boy named Danny. Two things became very clear to Santana that night: 1) her friend was a sucker for abs, and 2) under all that Hot Topic, Tina Cohen-Chang was actually pretty smoking hot.<p>

"This is a good look for you," she observed with a somewhat unintentional smirk. It was meant as an offhand comment, but she was already buzzed and the way she looked her up and down clearly registered in Tina's eyes as Santana unabashedly checking her out. "Who knew?"

To her credit, Tina didn't appear to mind. Judging by the smile that crept up white boy's lips neither did the new boyfriend. She wondered whether she ditched the Goth before or after meeting the guy.

"I was about to say the same thing!"

Santana glanced down, suddenly realizing she hadn't bothered to change clothes after Cheerios practice, and frowned. She had sworn never to don the tracksuit look but shorts and a Cheerios shirt only proved effective until the first snow fall in October.

"If I'd gone home to change I would've stayed home."

"I have to admit, you look Sue-scary in that."

Santana shot her a panicked look. "But not as gay, right?"

Tina threw her head back and laughed. "Not nearly," she reassured with an appreciative smile.

It was common knowledge that she and Mike remained close friends so Santana was grateful that Tina never asked about Brittany. It was a little disappointing though, if only because she'd hoped their friend would volunteer _some_ insight into her ex's life in Vegas without having to ask. She hadn't heard the dancer's voice in over two weeks and she was growing restless. A few emails and texts inquiring whether Brittany would make it home for Christmas had gone disturbingly unanswered.

"How's Mike doing?" She decided to ask instead as nonchalantly as possible when Danny stepped away to refill their drink cups. Tina eyed her curiously.

"He's good. Busy. I mean, the show opens in February so he's really stressed, but he's excited. Mercedes and I already booked our plane tickets."

When Santana only nodded in acknowledgement, Tina carefully added, "You're going, right?"

Santana accepted a fresh cup from Danny with a shaky smile and nodded in thanks_. _Her eyes lingered as he wrapped himself around Tina once more before looking away to take a long drink.

"Haven't been invited," she finally grumbled as the trashcan punch settled.

Tina smiled rather confidently into her cup before taking a sip. "She will."

By the end of the night, the only straight left in Santana was straight-up drunk. Everyone cleared out except for Finn, who'd joined her at the bar in Matt's basement after Kurt ducked out and took his keys. She'd spent most of the last hour indulging him as he barraged her with about a hundred pictures of his kid on his mobile phone.

"I love this one," he said with a goofy grin, "my mom says he looks like me when I was a baby."

Santana had to push his wrist away from her face in order to get a good look. Oscar's hair was jet black, his nose most definitely Rachel's, and he looked too small for a 3 month old.

"Yeah he kinda does, doesn't he?" she lied. Finn smiled proudly and Santana suddenly felt terrible for him.

"You miss him."

The light in his eyes quickly faded and she silently cursed herself for stating the obvious.

"Of course I miss him. I'm missing everything."

Santana quietly watched him put his phone away and chug the last of his drink before reaching for the bottle of Crown they'd been sharing. He didn't bother fetching another soda from the mini fridge and took a shot straight from the bottle before offering it to her. Santana obliged. The liquor went down smoothly, warming her throat and steadily fueling the aching need to hear Brittany's voice again.

"You okay?"

"Peachy!" She raised the bottle and cheered before bringing it to her lips once more.

"No, I mean, do I need to call you a cab?"

"You guys can crash here," Matt announced as he jogged down the stairs to join them.

Finn's mouth visibly watered as he spotted the plate of hot dogs in his hand before Matt leaned in between them and offered it to Santana first. She made a face when the smell filled her nose and pushed the plate away as she stood.

"Ugh, no thanks. I need to call Britt. Quinn! I need to call Quinn."

"Yeah?" Finn perked up.

"Seriously Finn, don't."

"What? I didn't say anything..."

Santana rolled her eyes as she rummaged through her purse for her phone. "You really didn't have to."

* * *

><p>The writing on the screen was so blurry that Santana figured it was a good thing she had Brittany's number on speed dial. After pressing the number 1 for the fifth time in a row, she took a deep breath and willed herself not to start weeping. The phone rang several times before Quinn's car pulled up in front of Matt's stoop. She reluctantly pressed 'end' and climbed into the passenger seat.<p>

"You _do_ realize it's 3AM and there are cabs in this town, right?"

Santana tried to roll her eyes but her head fell heavily against the head rest instead. "They charge you like 80 bucks if you throw up in their car..."

"Is that a joke?"

"Yes. Jesus. Can we go home now?"

Quinn eyed her suspiciously for another moment before putting the car on drive. "Please put your seatbelt on."

Santana sighed heavily, making sure to exaggerate the motion of pulling it around her body and clicking it noisily before bringing her attention back to her phone. She pressed 1 again and bit her lip as it rang once, twice, three times before the oh-so-familiar greeting chimed too cheerfully in her ear: _Hi! Busy! Leave a message! Bye!_

"Okay, seriously, where _are_ you?" Santana practically yelled, anger and tears winning over what little judgment she had left. "I hope you lost your stupid phone because if this is your way of telling me you met somebody else, _I swear to God, Brittany-_"

She felt the phone being yanked out of her hand before she could finish word-vomiting.

"What the hell do you think you're doing?" Quinn questioned, trying to keep puzzled eyes on the road as Santana struggled against her seatbelt.

"Give me my damn phone back!"

"No!" Quinn shoved her back and slapped Santana's hand away before pointing a warning finger. "You're drunk dialing. I'm not letting you drunk dial Brittany of all people."

As soon as Santana opened her mouth to protest she realized much to her chagrin that her roommate was only trying to help. She sighed and crossed her arms in silent protest. Quinn reached over and squeezed her shoulder even as Santana failed to shrug her off.

"You'll thank me tomorrow, I swear."

* * *

><p>Truth be told, Santana didn't remember much of that conversation not six hours later when a grumpy Quinn burst through her bedroom door wrapped in a thick quilt and her hair sticking out in crazy directions. It startled her awake and she reflexively sat up when the pounding in her head all but yanked her right back down.<p>

"This thing keeps making noise," Quinn moaned, tossing Santana's phone atop her bed before shuffling away.

It beeped loudly and Santana grimaced, feeling blindly around her sheets until she grabbed hold of the offending object and brought it to her face. Clutching her head, she peaked through her left eye to find the thing was almost out of battery and she had 3 missed calls from Brittany. Before she could register the fact, the phone buzzed in her hand, immediately followed by the blonde's smiling face and the most obnoxious Kesha song ever recorded.

"Ugh, remind me to roll Wheels off a cliff for making you tech savvy," Santana groaned into her phone as she crawled back under the darkness of her comforter.

"Santana?"

The sound of Brittany's voice jolted her back to reality and she suddenly panicked, remembering how much she drank and not quite remembering how she got home.

"Hey..." She hesitated, the pounding in her head growing frantic. "What time is it?"

"It's early, what did you mean about Artie? Where are you?"

"That awful song you programmed on my phone..." Santana began just as she recognized the alarm in Brittany's voice. "Never mind, I'm in bed, why? What's wrong?"

"Oh," Brittany sighed in what Santana thought sounded a whole lot like relief. Just then the events from the previous night came flooding back.

"I called you," she stated dumbly then groaned. "About a hundred times. I'm sorry."

"You sounded drunk."

"I was _very_ drunk. I'm so, so sorry. I didn't mean what I said, I - I barely remember, just forget I said anything, okay? Please." Santana begged.

"How'd you get home?"

Brittany sounded upset. Santana gulped. "Quinn."

"Good."

She waited for the follow-up speech but an uncomfortable silence settled in its place. "Are you mad at me?"

"No," the voice on the other end returned a little sadly. "I just wish I was home."

Brittany was conflicted. She wanted to be mad at her, Santana could just tell by the defeat in her voice. She probably wasn't allowing herself only because they technically weren't dating anymore and they'd had very little time to discuss how either of them really felt about it.

"What about Christmas? Can't you come?"

Brittany sighed audibly on the other end. "Mike booked us tickets but I can only stay a day or two and we don't even have clearance yet, it all depends how tech rehearsals go this week. As long as we don't have to make major changes, production will shut down on Christmas Eve and resume the day after Christmas..."

Santana's stomach dropped. It had occurred to her that she may not get to spend a whole lot of time with Brittany but she hadn't given any thought to the possibility of not seeing her at all. She felt the familiar burn of unshed tears in the back of her eyes and shut them tight to keep them from spilling.

"Hello?"

"I'm here," she whispered, her disappointment evident.

"I miss you, San. Please don't be sad. I'll see you soon, okay? I pinky promise."

Santana sniffled and forced a smile, willing her voice to sound reassuring. "Yeah, okay."

"Hey, I'm about to get on this elevator and lose you... I'll call you as soon as I know for sure about Christmas."

"_Please_."

"I will. And babe? _There's no one el_-"

The line cut off and Santana brought her phone around to stare at it sadly, realizing the battery was dead.

* * *

><p>Much to Santana's devastation, Brittany still hadn't called back the day before Christmas Eve. She'd spent all day clutching her phone to her chest in bed while watching old Christmas movies and feeling sorry for herself when Quinn set out to cheer her up.<p>

"Get up! You and I are going to Breadstix," she declared, already dressed and reaching to pull the covers off.

Santana caught on before she could and held them defensively against her body. "What's wrong with you? I'm not in the mood."

Quinn sighed but smiled, sitting next to her on the bed. "I know you're not, I'm not here to chastise you, but I'm hungry and I'd really like your company."

Santana eyed her curiously. Her roommate had been wearing the same suspicious smile all week and she was damn sure she was up to something. "Why can't Hudson take you?" She baited, watching closely as Quinn's eyes betrayed her.

"What? No," She giggled, her cheeks flushing in record time. "He's in New York, remember?"

Santana narrowed her eyes accusingly and Quinn shoved her playfully. "Stop it. Can't I _want_ to spend time with you?"

"Can't we get take-out and hang out here?"

"Ugh! No, Santana. Get up. You're going with me. I'll buy if you dress up."

"Dress up for _Breadstix_?" Santana pressed incredulously. "Seriously Q, I'm so not in the mood."

"San..."

"Rain check?" She asked hopefully, giving her a pained look she hoped her friend would understand. Quinn sighed.

"Will you just do this for me? I know it sounds silly but I'm asking you as a friend. A _best _friend. The kind that picks your drunk ass up from Christmas parties in the middle of the night."

"You're never gonna let me live that down, are you?"

"I will if you get up and come to dinner with me."

Santana rolled her eyes and pushed the covers off. "Fine..."

She reluctantly pulled herself out of bed and hopped in the shower. Less than an hour later, she was applying her makeup in the mirror when she spotted Quinn rummaging through her closet behind her.

"What the hell do you think you're doing? There's nothing in there you could possibly want to borrow," she queried over her shoulder, her brown eyes curiously zeroing in on Quinn as she poked her head out and held up a navy blue blouse.

"Why don't you wear this instead? It's sexy."

Santana rolled her eyes, shaking a tube of mascara in her hands and returning her attention to herself in the mirror. "It's cold as balls, Q. I'm putting on make-up and wearing my hair down, that's all you get."

She carefully brushed her lashes and pulled back to inspect her work before she noticed Quinn had silently gone, leaving the blouse hanging from her bathroom door knob. Santana shook her head with annoyance and finished her make-up. On her way out of the bathroom she grabbed the blouse and draped it across her chest, turning slightly to look herself in the mirror. Sighing, she swapped the warmth of her sweater for the thin material of the practically see-through Banana Republic button-up. She examined herself in front of the mirror again and decidedly exchanged her Uggs for Brittany's favorite high-heeled boots to complete the outfit. Giving herself a last once-over, Santana had to admit not only that she looked hot, but that she felt about a hundred times better. She made a mental note to thank Quinn later for that.

"You ready to go?" Santana shouted from their living room, slipping into her coat. Quinn appeared from the kitchen and smirked when she noticed Santana had changed, but otherwise didn't comment on it.

"Uh, yeah," she replied smugly, then nervously glanced around the room, "I just need to find my keys."

"Fuck it, I'll drive. Let's go before I change my mind."

Quinn frowned for a moment before the doorbell rang, her eyes and face lighting up immediately at the sound. "You get that! I'm gonna go look in here..."

Santana watched her disappear into her room and shot the door a questioning glance. Not expecting anyone in particular, she peeked through the peephole but only saw darkness. Quickly realizing (and seriously not amused by the fact) that someone was clearly pressing a gloved hand over it, she swung the door open to find Brittany smiling triumphantly back at her.

"Hungry?" she asked, holding up a take-out bag from Santana's favorite restaurant.

The blonde grinned when Santana only stood back in shock, a hand pressed against her heart as it hammered away. When the silly question finally registered, she shook her head in disbelief and launched herself at Brittany, wrapping her arms tightly around her with all the longing of having spent the last seven months, 23 days, and 2 grueling hours apart.

Not that Santana was pathetically counting or anything.

"Starving," she exhaled with relief, closing her eyes and finally breathing her back in.

* * *

><p>They had barely exchanged pleasantries (or words for that matter) before Santana found herself pinned against her kitchen counter, desperately pulling on the hair wrapped around her fist and panting incoherent thoughts into Brittany's mouth about the food getting cold and the corkscrew she was still gripping on her right. Her hips ground into the blonde's in a frenzied rhythm all the same, legs wrapped securely around her waist and what felt like a stronger than usual arm the only thing holding her up.<p>

The funny thing about falling in love with Brittany was that it was never ending. It had taken Santana a long time, and it was still very much happening when the girl turned to her after Quinn had left them and smiled at her with those eyes.

"Hey butterfly," was all she had to say, coming up behind her as Santana distractedly set about pouring them a glass of wine and purring in her ear about how good she looked, and how long it had been.

It _had _been long. Her presence alone was enough to make her dizzy, it was no wonder that her brain malfunctioned at the sudden proximity. She had turned only to fall into endless blue, half-hidden by heavy lids, while all at once her heart skipped a beat, the air left her lungs in hurry, and her stomach clenched with unadulterated want.

Santana blinked and next thing she knew she was tumbling off the edge embarrassingly fast. Brittany grinned wide, fist pumping proudly before setting her down on wobbly legs.

It all happened so fast that it wasn't until Brittany was helping her pull her pants back up that Santana realized she was finally home. Awestruck, she brought her hand around to cup the blonde's face and take in her features for the first time in too long. Brittany was leaner, and for a second Santana worried she was working herself too hard or not eating well, but then her eyes followed from her jaw down to her neckline and the defined muscle there, and further down to where her arms were bulkier, even though she was impossibly skinnier. The dancer was in the best shape of her life and all Santana could do was gawk.

Her breath hitched when Brittany moved close again, smirking before kissing her. "So about that wine..."

Santana turned to stare dumbfounded at the corkscrew still in her hand as Brittany pried it from her, the still very satisfied smile on her face making Santana blush and grow hot all over again. She bit her lip while Brittany reached around her for the bottle of wine Matt had included with their usual order. Just one of the many perks of being friends with the new Assistant Manager at Breadstix.

She watched the blonde fill their glasses and hand her one before raising her own in the air. "To a couple more of those tonight!"

Santana laughed and clinked her glass to Brittany's, her very own satisfied grin making Brittany's eyes light up, as if seeing her for the first time in a long time. "Done."

They kissed again, the wine soon forgotten when only one hand on the other wasn't enough. They remained glued to one another for a long time, making out in the same spot and never getting around to much of a conversation, just a slew of whispered regrets about time wasted without each other.

"I'm a huge idiot," Santana sighed, resting her forehead on Brittany's and shaking her head.

"What? Why?" Brittany asked, that familiar lost look on her face that Santana hadn't even realized she missed.

"For breaking up with you. That was really stupid of me. I honestly don't know what I was thinking."

"We just took a little break, that's all," Brittany smiled and shrugged if off like it was nothing. As if the rest of Santana's year hadn't gone to shit the minute she let her go.

"Besides," she continued, wrapping strong arms around Santana and hoisting her up once again. "I'm here now."

Brittany manhandling her like that while looking so damn good made Santana helplessly lose her breath. She subconsciously licked her lips when the other girl eyed her through hungry eyes and smirked.

"Hmm, and now what?" Santana asked with a raised eyebrow and a smirk of her own.

"Now I knock your lights out," Brittany grinned, handing the bottle of wine to Santana and grabbing their glasses skillfully in one hand before walking them over to her bedroom.

Brittany dumped her on the unmade bed and Santana quickly regretted not having picked up after herself over the last few miserable days while waiting on baited breath for her phone call.

Yet there Brittany was finally, live and in the flesh, plugging her phone into Santana's stereo system and setting Pandora on Slow Jams which only meant she was about to shut it _down_. Her stomach clenched in anticipation when Brittany flashed her another Cheshire grin, biting her lip and stripping down to her "special occasion" undies (_definitely new_, she noted) before crawling mercifully slow over Santana's shivering body.

Brittany kept good on her promise and when Santana next woke, her room was dark save for the light coming from somewhere else in the apartment through the open bedroom door. She sat up in bed quickly and rubbed her eyes, reaching for her phone to check the time. It was 1 AM and she was in bed alone. Santana frowned.

"Britt?" She called out in a panic, thinking with a sinking feeling that she might have just dreamed it all.

Not getting a response but suddenly feeling her sore limbs come to life as she crawled out of bed, Santana knew she couldn't have possibly imagined the things they'd just done to each other. She shivered at the thought and at the cold that hit her naked body, her arms shaking as she reached for her bathrobe and secured it around herself.

"Brittany?"

She followed the light to her kitchen where she found the other girl munching on the take out they forgot to eat.

"Hey," Brittany smiled around a mouthful of fettuccine and swallowed. "Sorry, I haven't eaten all day. _God_ I missed this stuff."

Santana smiled and wrapped her arms around Brittany, clad in only in lacy panties and one of Santana's McKinley shirts.

"How are you not freezing, babe?"

"Oh God, why is your heart beating so fast?" Brittany returned with a small laugh, choking on her food. "You okay?"

Santana pouted and buried her face in Brittany's neck. "I thought you left. Or that I dreamed you."

"Aww babe."

Brittany squeezed her and after a moment Santana pulled back to look at her, grinning happily. Even her cheeks were sore from smiling so damn much. And stuff.

"I love you," she said, falling in love with her all over again, her own escalating heartbeat giving everything away. Santana was sure she would die if she didn't feel this way always and vowed to do everything in her power to make them work. She recognized how incredibly lucky she was not having lost her to her own frustrations already.

"I love _you_," Brittany echoed and pecked her before apologetically untangling herself to take another bite of her food.

"Oh God it's been so long," Brittany groaned around another mouthful.

Santana laughed and moved to hug her from behind, brushing blonde hair over a taut shoulder and peppering the back of Brittany's neck with soft kisses.

"I don't know how you do it out there without the Stix, baby," Santana mumbled against tanner skin, a sure sign of west coast living. "I would _die."_

* * *

><p>They didn't get a whole lot of sleep that night. Even after their bodies grew exhausted, they lay naked, wrapped around each other to keep warm, buried deep under Santana's comforter. Every time she would drift off to sleep, Brittany's lazy tongue would snake into her mouth and wake her, kissing her slowly out of sleep before dozing off herself and leaving Santana awake with want to watch her for a long time before falling asleep again.<p>

Santana hadn't slept but a few hours in a row when she woke to the sunlight bathing her room in bright orange and yellow hues, reflecting beautifully off of Brittany's golden hair while she snoozed. She smiled instantly, not having woken up to her face in so long. It was the morning before Christmas Eve, and that reminded her, she was glad to have bought those black diamond earrings Brittany had always wanted after all, hoping to be able to give them to her before the holiday passed.

Santana felt pretty slick as she slipped out of bed to fetch the present and climbed back on top of Brittany, kissing her neck and lifting her head to watch the blonde's eyes flutter sleepily.

"Merry Christmas Eve, baby," she whispered against Brittany's lips before kissing her, the feel of an expert tongue against her own making Santana whimper when it slipped inside her mouth in search of wet warmth.

That was one of her absolute favorite feelings in the world, Brittany's tongue in her mouth. Santana was pretty sure that if she tried long and hard enough she could probably get off just by making out with her. She may have the very first time they did it.

Remembering the box in her hand, Santana pulled back to catch her breath and placed it on Brittany's chest. Feeling the weight she peaked through one eye and smiled.

"What's this?"

"Your Christmas present. I know it's a day early but I couldn't wait." Santana smiled excitedly back and kissed the tip of her nose. "Open it."

"Wait, not yet!" Brittany pushed her present back into Santana's hands. "Let's do it tonight, at my parents'."

Brittany sat up immediately then and looked around the room in alarm. "Shit! What time is it? Why don't you have an alarm clock?"

"You took it," Santana frowned and reached for her phone. "It's 8:20, what's up?"

Brittany groaned and fell back on the bed. "I told Mom I'd be by at 10."

"I can't believe she let you come here first," Santana mused, crawling back over her.

Brittany opened one eye again and smirked. "She thinks I'm flying in this morning."

Santana faked a gasp. "Does she now!"

"Mhmm," Brittany nodded, stretching her arms above her head and grinning smugly. "Told her you're picking me up at the airport."

"What, you didn't want to tell her you were getting it in first?" Santana giggled and leaned in to press their swollen lips together again, her leg slipping between the Brittany's and shuddering at how wet she still was. Santana groaned while Brittany shook her head distractedly and reached for her ass to pull her closer.

A quickie and a shower later, they were both standing in line at the Lima Bean, sleepy and a little desperate for their morning coffee, but still on cloud nine if the way they couldn't hide their sated smiles was any indication.

"Well if it isn't Miss Brittany Pierce," the familiar voice sounded from behind them. Brittany turned warily, knowing who she would find there.

"Hi Coach," she greeted, her tone a little cautious as she glanced at Santana. The other girl just rolled her eyes and smiled, nodding reluctantly.

"Please, it's Sue," their former leader shrugged, far nicer than usual but sneering indifferently as ever. "I hear you got a great gig out in Vegas. Congratulations."

Brittany smiled kindly. "Thank you, Sue."

"Hey!" Sue smiled back, pointing at her, "You're very welcome. I'm sure you couldn't have done it without me."

"Y-Yeah…" Brittany giggled amusedly while Santana scoffed. The blonde took her hand then and smiled at her, making Santana's mouth twitch into a stupid grin.

"Well, I won't keep you," Sue glanced between them uncomfortably, "And I certainly don't want to interrupt this little reunion. You ladies have a good day."

The girls snickered as Sue jumped out of the line and left without getting anything.

"What was that?" Brittany asked, confused by the exchange. Santana shrugged.

"She's been weird ever since she got married," she offered, "I think so many years of being a bitch makes her an awkward happy person."

Brittany laughed at this. "Does that mean you'll be an awkward happy person when we get married?"

Santana blushed, a little hurt by being called a bitch but knowing that was the last of Brittany's intentions. The other girl squeezed her hand and smiled sweetly.

"I'm kidding."

* * *

><p>Christmas Eve at the Pierce's had always been a big ordeal. Brittany had a pretty large extended family all over northern Ohio that traditionally gathered at their home to celebrate the holiday. It was chaos, but Santana loved sneaking away from her own family festivities to spend at least a couple of hours with her girlfriend's kinfolk. She was practically family, having done this most of her life since they were little girls. As they grew older and the dynamic of their relationship slowly changed into what it was to date, some of them understood the nature of their closeness while the older, more distant members still regarded them as best friends.<p>

Still, they all expected and welcomed her with open arms year after year, cheering when she always brought with her a bottle of her mother's famous coquito. It was like the Puerto Rican version of eggnog, except it was delicious. Mrs. Lopez always made it with the best rum exported from the island.

This year was no exception; Santana had planned to spend the evening with the Pierce's anyway since they'd heard that her parents couldn't make it out, and Santana hadn't taken them up on their invite to spend the holiday with them in Virginia fearing she would miss Brittany if she went. Mrs. Pierce had called her the previous week to ask her to bring an extra bottle of coquito when she came since her eldest was coming in from Europe with her husband and his family, thus extending the silent invitation.

Santana presented Brittany's dad with two bottles she had made herself as the rest of Brittany's family rushed to the dancer and smothered her in hugs, squealing with excitement, not having seen the girl in just as long. She smiled fondly as Brittany spotted her big sister and nephew, nearly toppling them over when she ran to them.

After a several hour long catch up conversation and an exhausting lunch complete with Brittany's little cousins running around the adult table after feeding on far too many Christmas cookies, Santana yawned as she refilled her coffee cup. She had eaten far too much, but the Pierce women always prepared a mouthwatering fondue spread for lunch while Brittany's dad and uncles spent all day roasting pork for dinner. The girls customarily made themselves sick by overeating since it was the only two days out of the year they allowed themselves to break their healthy diets, and monumentally so.

"Ugh, I need a nap," Santana groaned, bringing the coffee cup to her lips and blowing on the steaming liquid.

Mrs. Pierce took the plates Brittany had gathered from the table and shooed them out of the kitchen.

"Go lay down for a bit, you two look about to fall over," she ordered.

They joined Brittany's dad snoring lightly in the living room while the TV played _A Charlie Brown Christmas_.

"Ooh, turn it up!" Santana requested in between yawns, smiling contentedly as she snuggled close to Brittany on the couch before passing out to the sounds of her favorite cartoon.

After a short nap and changing into their evening outfits, Brittany's family continued to trickle in and by early evening the coquito and the eggnog were already being merrily passed around. Santana was indulging Mr. Pierce by tasting all the food he had cooking in the oven when Brittany popped into the kitchen, grabbed a bowl from the fridge and stole her away.

"Sorry Dad, it's time for Santana's Christmas present!" She announced, dragging Santana from the kitchen and up the stairs to her room.

Brittany closed the door behind them, bouncing impatiently on the balls of her feet as she turned around, clapping her hands together and directing them to sit on the floor. She sat the bowl in front Santana and removed the lid to reveal heart-shaped cookies with 'Britt + Santana' written on them in colorful icing. Brittany must've made the batch earlier in the day when she was helping her mom while Santana helped her nephew decorate his.

"I made you cookies!" Brittany chirped. "Here have one."

Santana took the offered sugary treat and took a bite, smiling happily at the other girl. "You're the sweetest, thank you."

Brittany sat on her knees and leaned in for a quick kiss before sitting back with an outstretched arm, her eyes closed and palm turned up expectantly. Santana chuckled and reached into her bag for Brittany's present, placing it on the palm of her hand. Brittany opened her eyes and yelped when she opened the box and saw the earrings.

"Oh my god, San!" She squealed, jumping forward and throwing her arms around Santana. "They're gorgeous! I love them!"

Santana laughed joyfully at Brittany's animated reaction, pleased with having surprised her.

"And look, they match!" Brittany pulled back and opened her black cardigan for Santana to note the cute grey dress, a black satin ribbon wrapped around the waist indeed tying the whole thing together. "Here, put them on."

Santana obliged, replacing the ones Brittany already had on with the 14 karat studs and sitting back to admire them. They looked stunning with her hair pulled back into a bun, the black gems contrasting perfectly with her baby blues.

"Beautiful," Santana grinned.

An elated smile spread across Brittany's face, bowing her head a bit bashfully like she always did when Santana went out of her way to be attentive.

"Thank you, San."

Santana shook her head, swallowing the small lump that unexpectedly formed in her throat.

"I'm so proud of you," she cried softly, Brittany's eyes widening and misting at the sudden emotion behind Santana's voice. "You went and showed everyone that thought you'd never leave this place just what you're truly capable of and that makes me so happy."

"San…"

"And I know," Santana quickly interrupted, blinking back a few tears, "I know that I let you go alone and that I broke things off, but baby you have to believe me that I only did it because I love you, and I believe in you. I never want to hold you back."

Brittany frowned and shook her head. "Santana, you don't hold me back. Why would you think that?"

"Because my life is here right now," she shrugged a little sadly, "I actually like coaching Cheerios. I'm really good at it and I make pretty decent money. I don't even know if I want to go back to school. I'm not gonna find this kind of job anywhere else without a degree, and I'm not ready to throw it away just yet..."

"But I'd never ask you to do that," Brittany noted.

"I know," Santana lowered her head and shook it. "But I want to be with you more than anything, and I need you to understand that I'd leave it all behind if that's what best for _us. _I'll do whatever it takes."

Brittany took her hands in hers and squeezed, smiling sweetly when Santana looked up.

"San, it's just a few more months, I'll be home in the spring. And even before then, you'll come see our show when it opens, right?"

"Of course," Santana sniffled and smiled, "I wouldn't miss it for the world. But Britt…"

She worried her lip between her teeth and glanced away for moment, hating everything about their long distance relationship but still refusing to quit it.

"This is kind of a big deal, you know? It's gonna to get you noticed. You'll get offered other gigs and I can't think of any opportunities like that for you here. So if we're gonna do this long distance thing, _really_ do it this time, I need you to make time for me. I need to hear your voice and see your face at least once a day, okay? Ten minutes on Skype is all I ask."

"Okay," Brittany laughed softly, scooting closer and placing their joined hands neatly on top of her knees. "But Santana I can't do long distance forever. Vegas is a lot of fun but I can't wait to come home. I miss my family. I miss _you_."

Santana smiled fondly at her. "I miss you, too. But you can't just throw away all your hopes and dreams because you're homesick. That's just part of growing up."

"San," Brittany huffs, no longer hiding her frustration with the direction the conversation keeps taking. "These _are_ my hopes and dreams. What more could I ask for? It's all very awesome but I don't think I can leave home for good, ever."

"Britt, home doesn't always have to be where you grow up, it's where life lands you, it's where you _settle_ that matters."

Brittany shook her head dismissively and gently cupped Santana's face.

"Home is with _you_. I don't want to end up anywhere you're not. I'd be miserable there."

Santana's heart wrenched inside her chest. Brittany was still so naïve and she feared that maybe she really was holding the girl back. She closed her eyes to hide the conflict clouding them and sighed.

"You don't even know what's out there," she whined, "_Who's_ out there. You're perfect, Brittany, anyone could sweep you away at any moment."

Brittany's throaty laugh snapped Santana's attention back and she blinked, staring vulnerably back at her as the blonde shook her head with amusement.

"Honey, I'm far from perfect, but thanks. I love you so much."

Brittany chuckled again as she moved to press their lips together, kissing her hard. Santana moaned into the kiss before leaning her forehead against Brittany's and pushing back for air.

"You _are_ perfect," she whispered, feeling the other girl smile as she brushed their lips together once more.

"Santana, look at me," Brittany asked softly and Santana blinked her eyes open. "Why would I go looking for anyone out there when I already have everything I've ever wanted right here?"

Santana felt her heart swell and she sobbed, smiling through a few tears she didn't know had escaped.

"That's the sweetest thing anyone's ever said to me, Britt," she said, even though she was sure the sweetest things ever said to Santana almost always came from Brittany's mouth.

The blonde smiled and placed a chaste kiss to her lips, carefully swiping the wetness around her eyes with her thumbs before reaching for her hands again and squeezing her fingertips lightly.

"San, can I ask you something?"

Brittany's tongue darted out of her mouth to wet her bottom lip anxiously. Santana quirked a curious eyebrow and nodded.

"If I asked you to marry me, would you say yes?"

Santana's face grew visibly hot while rather quickly unraveling into a giggling fit.

"I'm sorry, what?"

Brittany snorted a laugh at her reaction, basking briefly in the glow emanating from Santana's cheeks before tugging on her hands insistently.

"I'm serious, would you?"

Santana gave her a warm smile and raised her knuckles to Brittany's cheek, brushing the skin there and watching lovingly as the bluest eyes fluttered at the touch.

"Yeah Britt," she replied honestly, "I would."

The words slipped easily past her lips, but the way Brittany had smiled then was enough for Santana to realize how much she had truly meant them. Somewhere down the line she had fallen so madly in love that she would bend over backwards to give her the world, the rest of her life was really but a small token of her affection.

"I'm gonna need some bling, though," she added jokingly with a laugh that died in her throat the moment Brittany reached inside her cardigan's pocket and produced a small black box.

Santana's mouth went suddenly dry and she could literally hear her heart racing as Brittany's beautifully choreographed proposal unfolded before her eyes. She clutched her chest with both hands, practically leaping back when Brittany pulled the top back to reveal the largest diamond Santana had ever seen in person.

"You're serious," she stated lamely, her eyes wide in stunned surprise as Brittany sat a little straighter on her knees and cleared her throat.

"So," she said smugly, reaching for Santana's hand and purposely placing a quick kiss on her ring finger, her thumb lingering to rub over the spot. "Will you marry me?"

Santana's senses overwhelmed her. The pounding of her heart was deafening, her hands were numb but she was pretty sure they were shaking, and she couldn't tear her eyes away from the stunningly perfect ring being offered in exchange of her hand. Her mouth opened and she forgot how to speak all at once. It wasn't until she finally looked into Brittany's hopeful eyes that the tears started flowing freely.

"Yes," she croaked, barely recognizing the vulnerability in her own voice. "Yes, I'll marry you. Of course I will."

"Yeah?" Brittany whispered then, the way tears brimmed from her own eyes betraying her previously complacent demeanor.

Santana nodded hard to emphasize the sudden loss for words, laughing, and crying, and chocking on her own tears for trying to do both. She was sure Brittany had never seen her that exposed, or that _happy_ ever before, because that was the happiest she had ever been her entire life. All of her walls came down; glad to give herself away to Brittany, whom she foolishly had never expected this from.

Santana was being swept off her feet by the love of her life and she didn't even see it coming.

Her hands lifted to cradle Brittany's face at the same time she grabbed Santana by the waist and pulled her onto her lap, embracing her while Santana coiled her arms around Brittany's neck and crashed their mouths together. A brief (albeit heavy) make-out session later, Brittany finally reached for the ring and slipped it onto Santana's finger, satisfied with the perfect fit and the way Santana couldn't look at it without her eyes bulging out of her head.

"Merry Christmas, baby," she said, placing another soft kiss to Santana's salty lips.

* * *

><p>Her face was still puffy and red from crying when Santana realized what they would have to do next. Not only would she have to face Brittany's parents and tell them, but they had to share the news with the entire Pierce clan as well.<p>

Santana shook as she quickly reapplied her make-up in the mirror. Sensing her suddenly anxious state, Brittany smiled next to her and reached for her hand, giving it a squeeze.

"It's okay," she laughed, pulling her away as Santana nervously combed a hand through her hair. "Come on, let's get this over with."

Of course, little did Santana know she was the very last one in on the joke.

She froze mid-step as they descended the Pierce's staircase when she realized that the living room below was fuller, spotting Mike first, then Quinn, and _Rachel_… suddenly, as the room noticed them reappear and all eyes stared back expectantly, it finally hit her.

Brittany shot up her arms victoriously in the air and everyone erupted in cheers. The house was so packed that the sound startled Santana. Everyone was there for _them_.

Everyone. Quinn, Mrs. Fabray, Mike, some chick clinging to him Santana had never met before, Puck, Rachel, the baby, Finn, Kurt, their parents, Rachel's dads, Matt, Tina, Mercedes, Blaine, even The Schuesters.

They all rushed them when the girls reached the bottom, Kurt practically climbing over a few family members to get to her first.

"Oh my gooooooood!" He crashed into Santana squealing. "Let me see! Let me see!"

Santana lifted a shaky left hand and he yanked it close to his face, eyes wide.

"Holy shit, Tan."

"I know, right?"

They stared at each other for a moment, eyes wide and speechless before he leaned closer.

"Can she afford this?"

Santana opened her mouth but then closed it, frowning thoughtfully. "I don't know."

"Oh, who cares, it's fucking stunning! I'm so jello right now."

Santana laughed and Kurt squealed again before grabbing her and lifting her up in a hug. He kissed her cheek then pressed his lips to her ear.

"Congratulations, you deserve this."

Santana hugged him tighter, emotion overwhelming her once again. "I love you, Kurt."

He squeezed her again then set her down.

"I love you, too, bitch."

They were giggling like school girls when Kurt's eyes flashed behind her and he grinned, reaching for her shoulders and turning her around.

Santana nearly had a heart attack.

"Mom?"

* * *

><p><em>It's officially been a week since Santana came out of the closet and if anyone's given her shit for it, she hasn't taken her eyes off her girlfriend long enough to notice. <em>

_They've just made it to the choir room, hand in hand (and Santana really can't believe how incredibly comforting that is all of a sudden), to find a note from Mr. Schue letting them know that practice is cancelled. There's also a note from Rachel tacked on top saying that practice will resume at her place but the girls choose to ignore it. _

_Santana stops for some fro-yo on their way back to her place and they settle down on the couch to cuddle away their first free afternoon in ages. Brittany's flipping through the channels when Santana randomly turns to look at her and her breath catches, her stomach also flipping the way it does now whenever she looks to her side and instead of seeing her best friend she sees 'the one'. _

_Santana's spent so much time holding back when all she really wanted was to show Brittany affection, that now she makes a point to every time she so much as gets the urge. She reaches over, wrapping an arm around Brittany's waist who smiles knowingly, letting herself be pulled onto Santana's lap. The blonde silently sinks into the comfort of Santana's embrace and closes her eyes, humming happily when Santana places a soft kiss to that one spot on her neck._

"_I love you," Santana whispers, eyes closing as she breathes her in. She trails her lips slowly across Brittany's jaw while simply delighting in the way she feels in her arms when holding her like this._

_There's just something so freeing about getting lost in Brittany; it fills Santana's heart with the greatest sense of peace. If this is what being out and proud feels like then Santana has zero intention of taking it back._

_Then again, she has far less intention of telling her parents any time soon. For fear of rejection, obviously, but mostly because currently her girlfriend spends the night on a semi-regular basis without question and Santana's not trying to fuck with that arrangement right now. _

_What Santana doesn't know, though, is that her mom's car is in the shop and she's currently hovering over them, hands on her hips and her head cocked sideways._

_"Huh," is all Mrs. Lopez says, a little taken aback by the more than friendly display that is her daughter and her "best friend" wrapped around each other and clearly about to make out on their living room couch. Intentionally, too. _

_In fact, if Mrs. Lopez is being honest with herself, the two look cozy enough to assume this has been going on under her nose for years._

_"Does your father know about this?"_

_Santana gulps, frozen in place since acknowledging her mother's presence. She's silently cursing herself while keeping as still as possible because pulling away right now will only make her look guiltier. Not that all the blushing and the stuttering aren't already doing that. _

_"I... well, n-no. Not really."_

_"Not really?"_

_Brittany squirms uncomfortably in her arms, her face radiating heat, but Santana won't let go - she _can't_ let go. If she lets go of Brittany right now Santana will fall apart and she didn't even rehearse how this would go down, she's been that serious about putting it off as long as possible. _

_Brittany realizes and settles, turning her attention towards Santana and gripping her closer in a protective manner. _

_"I mean," Santana swallows thickly, then, resolutely, "no ma'am, he doesn't."_

_Mrs. Lopez nods. Her eyes keep getting a little wider the more she thinks about it but Santana notices that she's trying really hard not to freak out, and she kind of appreciates that. _

_"Okay, well," she replies calmly after a moment, "do you want me to tell him? Or do you want to tell him yourself?"_

_Santana thinks about this for a second, immediately thinks about having to face her father - her gorgeous, six foot tall, picture of perfect health father who has never laid a hand on her but is nonetheless perfectly capable of putting the fear of God in her with one fucking look. Her lips tremble._

_Brittany gives her a gentle squeeze._

_"Um, I'll tell him, Ma." Santana says quietly. Mrs. Lopez nods again._

_"Okay then. I'll... give you guys some privacy." She says awkwardly, moving to leave them before turning around suddenly. "Oh!" _

_Mrs. Lopez's eyes widen, her cheeks a shade redder. _

_"She can't spend the night." She winces. "Sorry, Britt."_

_Brittany shrugs, pouting sadly. "S'okay."_

_It's _not_ okay, though. _

_Santana sighs dramatically after her mother disappears, afternoon officially ruined._

_"Well, this fucking sucks."_

* * *

><p>Santana was her mother's only child.<p>

She had an older half-sister, Michelle, but considering she was probably gayer than Santana, she figured her mom had long ago resigned to not seeing either walk down the aisle.

That had always made Santana the saddest. At the end of the day she didn't so much care what anybody else thought of her as long as her mother still loved her. She only tried really hard to like boys for her.

"Look at this rock, Ma," She whispered in awe.

"You're surprised?" Mrs. Lopez asked with a quirked eyebrow, taking her daughter's hand to admire the ring. "That girl knows you have expensive taste."

"Don't you feel silly now for trying to keep us apart?"

"Ay, _por favor_, Santana," Her mother replied, hands suddenly on her hips and looking very offended. "When did I ever say you couldn't date her?"

"You wouldn't let her spend the night anymore! Like we hadn't already been going at it for _years_, Mami."

Mrs. Lopez quickly shut her eyes and tried to shake the image with her head.

"I didn't _know_ that or I wouldn't have allowed it. You were still under my roof."

Santana chuckled and rolled her eyes. "Whatever, Ma."

"Whatever _nada_, let's see how you handle that with your own spawn. I hope you have lots of girls who give you as much grief as you gave me."

Her mother smiled fondly at that and emotion overcame Santana again, her eyes watering immediately.

"I'm so happy for you, Sanny," she said then, taking her daughter's hands in her own and kissing both in turn.

"I'm happy that _you're_ happy," Santana replied honestly, wiping away a few stray tears.

"You know I love you, baby," Mrs. Lopez admonished, shaking her head with affection at one of her daughter's many stubborn insecurities.

"And your daddy's really sorry he couldn't be here. It's his first year at the hospital and he had to take the on-call shift. You know how that goes."

Santana nodded, smiling. "He texted me earlier, said the same thing. I thought he was just sad I couldn't come."

"He what! I'll kill him," her mother replied with a roll of her eyes, "He _knew_ it was a surprise."

Santana shook her head and laughed.

"It's okay, Ma, he didn't ruin it," she shrugged before hugging her mother tight, feeling complete and overjoyed for the first time in a really long while.

"Nothing could ruin this moment."

* * *

><p>Santana discreetly scanned the room twice before Brittany caught her.<p>

"Who're you looking for?"

The look on her face was that of concern, likely worried she had forgotten someone Santana wished to share this moment with and completely unaware of the guilt that rushed her. She certainly didn't _need_ him there, but she expected him to be as he always was in times such as these, reminding her just how lucky she was to have actually come out on top for once.

Brittany cocked her head to the side, sensing the hesitation, and Santana let go of all that nonsense with a quick shake of her head. They were engaged now. She no longer had to second guess herself when asking such questions. Santana was pretty sure the rock on her finger meant she had earned that much.

"Where's Artie?"

Brittany shrugged as her eyes fell to Santana's lips.

"Don't know," she said and Santana couldn't tell if she was disappointed or just distracted. "I invited him but we haven't talked in a while."

Brittany's eyes flickered up to meet brown ones and Santana nodded, acknowledging her answer but not caring to expand on it. Then Brittany's eyes dropped to her mouth again and Santana couldn't help but notice the way she moved. It was quite subtle, the way she fidgeted to stay rooted and how her tongue darted out subconsciously to lick her bottom lip before sucking it between her teeth. The corner of Santana's mouth began to twitch with a knowing smirk just as Brittany leaned over to ninja-steal a quick peck in a room full of family.

It was the kind of display Santana had never experienced before, she realized with shame. Whether out of insecurity or respect for their parents, she was never really sure. What she was extremely sure of was the woman standing there looking at her like _that_, and it didn't even matter because everyone was there to celebrate their union, anyway.

Without a second thought, Santana leaned back over and placed a soft, comfortable kiss on her fiancé's lips.

A few 'awws' and whistles erupted in the space around them but when she pulled back, Brittany's breath caught and her cheeks flushed, and though Santana really wanted to roll her eyes at their audience, all she could manage to do was beam.

* * *

><p>After midnight, Santana typed <em>Merry Christmas<em> into her phone. Her thumb hovered unsurely over the 'send' button when Quinn poked her head over her shoulder.

"Who you texting?"

Santana shut the screen off quickly and turned her head to kiss her friend's cheek.

"Merry Christmas, Q."

Quinn smiled and circled her arms around Santana in a hug.

"Aww, Merry Christmas, roomie," she wished back, and Santana could tell she was nice and drunk by the warmth of her face against her shoulder and the smell of rum in her breath. "Are you having the best Christmas ever or what?"

Santana smiled, raising her hand to stare at her ring for the hundredth time that night.

"Yup, pretty sure."

Quinn gave her another squeeze and released her, walking around her with a sly smile on her face and crossing her arms.

"How long did you keep that blouse on last night, by the way?"

Santana rolled her eyes and smiled fondly. "Zero point zero zero seconds. Thanks."

"You're very welcome," she replied with a tip of her head.

"By the way, I'll take the kitchen this week. I lost a few buttons and I don't want you to vacuum them up," Santana added just to watch Quinn cringe. "That's an expensive blouse."

"Just make sure you clean every surface, Santana," her roommate replied, delivering a weak punch to Santana's arm.

"Ow?" She mocked.

Quinn punched her arm harder and Santana returned the action.

"Ow!"

"Hey, no violence!" Brittany appeared between them in a flash and easily picked Quinn up in a hug.

"Merry Christmas, Quinn!" She said before setting her back down and running off to find her next victim.

"Britt loves her Red Bull and vodka."

"_Geez_, she's gotten strong," Quinn turned to Santana, who smirked in return.

"And I have the bruises to prove it."

"Ugh, enough!"

Quinn punched her again and they both laughed. Finn came down the stairs with his sleeping son clutched to his chest then, said his goodbyes, and asked if she was ready to go. Quinn nodded.

"Hey," Santana grabbed her friend's wrist and tugged her close. "What's going on?"

Santana eyed Finn warily as he continued ahead, unaware. Quinn followed her eyes and returned them quickly, shaking her head dismissively.

"Really, Q?" Santana sighed, "I know you don't think I'm that stupid."

"San, I really don't know what to label it and frankly I'm not ready to share, either."

Santana crossed her arms and narrowed her eyes. Quinn mimicked her in defense.

"Who were you texting just now, your dealer?" She challenged.

Santana recoiled almost immediately, clearly misjudging how quickly she had shut the screen on her phone off a minute earlier.

"Leave it alone, Santana. Don't start shit and enjoy your night, okay?" Quinn warned.

Santana nodded quietly, both girls aware they were no longer talking about Finn. Quinn's face softened and she pulled Santana in for another hug.

"I'm serious, San, stop trying so hard. Believe me you're not helping anyone."

Santana pulled back with a frown.

"Did he say anything to you?"

Quinn shook her head and gave her a stern look. "_Leave it._"

Santana nodded reluctantly.

"Promise?"

"Yeah, okay, _Jesus_," Santana huffed and rolled her eyes.

"The Lord's name, Santana," Quinn winced.

"Whatever, you're not driving are you?"

"No," Quinn replied, "And don't worry, he's just dropping me off at my mom's."

She winked reassuringly and Santana smiled, pushing her away.

"Get out of here then. Love you."

"Me too," Quinn called over her shoulder, waving her fingers above her head. "And please call me as soon as Brittany leaves, that woman is driving me bananas!"

* * *

><p>It was easily the best Christmas morning since the one before Santana realized Santa Claus wasn't real. Every one after that, her parents would hand her department store catalogs and ask her to circle whatever she wanted that year. By the time she was 12, Santana was placing the orders herself and wrapping her own presents, which she thought was incredibly unnecessary but her mother insisted she did, anyway.<p>

The magic was back. She awoke with butterflies in her stomach and lifted her hand much like she once used to race down the stairs, and there it was. Her beautiful, fairytale fantasy of an engagement ring on her finger and the love of her life smirking knowingly against her neck as she stirred awake, placing a longing kiss on the warm skin there.

Santana might as well have died and gone to heaven on that very moment.

"Did I do good, baby?" Brittany mumbled, voice drowsy.

At a loss for words to describe just how special Santana felt, she turned over instead, digging her arms under Brittany's as the girl stretched luxuriously beneath her, and kissed her with a yearning she didn't know existed.

The hunger that rose in her belly as she deepened the kiss, tongues dancing gracefully and in perfect unison, was unlike anything she had ever felt for Brittany before. It was the kind of desire that was laced with hope for a future they were committing to brave together. A future Brittany had made more than clear would always include the two of them as a unit, no matter what.

Brittany's legs wrapped around her waist, locking her feet just under her ass and pushing Santana further into herself with the press of her heels. Santana hummed with enthusiasm against her mouth, breaking away just long enough to return air to her lungs.

"I love you," she panted into Brittany's waiting mouth, kissing her wetly before placing another kiss to her chin, then titling her head ever so slightly to feel Brittany's pulse quicken under lips.

Santana smirked, placing another deliberate kiss on her chest just above the collar of her Bengals jersey while her fingertips skirted up Brittany's ribs, pushing the clothing up high enough for Santana to dip her head and brush her lips above her belly button. Brittany drew a few quick breaths and shuddered at the feeling.

Santana smiled again, placing another lingering kiss right above the waistband of her panties before pulling back to slide them off, both girls grinning at each other as Santana gently lifted her legs and moved her feet over one shoulder to avoid breaking the intense look they were sharing.

Brittany bit her lip and silently watched Santana toss the underwear behind her head, grabbing hold of her ankles and moving to trail kisses down her leg and up her thigh. Santana watched her eyes flutter closed as she inched closer, her mouth slowing to swipe her tongue the rest of the way.

When Santana finally kissed where Brittany needed her the most, she watched the girl arch up off the bed slowly, her head tipping back so that all Santana could see then was her mouth open to moan low in her throat, hands gripping the sheets at her sides.

Santana groaned and buried herself deeper, her own hips coming down on the bed and pressing insistently to relieve some of her own pressure. She sucked and licked at her hungrily, keeping a steady pace to prolong the moment long enough and ensure Brittany had an awesome Christmas morning orgasm. She knew she was doing well when Brittany's breathing turned to increasingly louder panting until she was reaching for the pillow under her head to press it desperately over her face.

Her body snapped like a rubber band when she came, coiling tightly and clamping her thighs down around Santana's head while moaning loudly into her pillow. Santana was certain anyone within a ten foot radius of the room heard Brittany anyway, considering the super human thighs about to pull her head off were making it impossible for Santana to hear anything other than her own thundering heartbeat.

She was resigning to the embarrassing fate of losing consciousness at the head of Brittany's dancer legs when the blonde finally released her grip, the rest of her body falling limp under Santana. She sucked in a nice long breath and cracked her jaw before collapsing head first over Brittany's heaving stomach.

"_Very_ good, then," Brittany laughed, throwing the pillow aside and tangling her fingers in Santana's hair.

* * *

><p>The pastries Mrs. Pierce prepared from scratch were to die for. Santana spread homemade almond butter over some sort of Dutch sweet bread, surely made from God's own recipe, and eagerly sunk her teeth in.<p>

"Mmm _so good_," she moaned with delight as Mrs. Pierce smiled warmly, blissfully unaware of the appetite her talented daughter had worked up to warrant such uninhibited consumption of carbs.

The family gathered around the tree opening presents while Brittany bounced around excitedly, taking pictures of everyone with the gifts she had brought them. It was the first time she was able to afford gifting her large family and she was glowing with pride. Her parents had once told her that Santa only brought children presents, therefore she would have to start giving away her own as an adult, explaining they were even more special that way.

Brittany had understood that much, and although Santana had tried to explain how things really worked in private for nearly a decade, Brittany still smiled at her sadly whenever she tried and admonished Santana's lack of faith.

Some of their friends still didn't understand how their relationship worked, but in truth it was Brittany's expansive imagination that Santana found most attractive. Her innocent attitude towards life (which Santana secretly envied) brought perfect balance to their dynamic. So what if she had to pay someone to break into their home and leave presents for their potential children under the tree for the rest of their lives? If they grew up to be half as happy as Brittany was, Santana was perfectly willing to adopt the Pierce's unconventional ways.

As if reading her thoughts, Brittany's mom leaned in with a smile, having caught the grin on Santana's face as she watched.

"Jeff and I are so glad she picked you," she confessed quietly.

Taken aback, Santana turned to regard Mrs. Pierce curiously. "Really?"

She hadn't meant to sound so incredulous but it still blew her mind that after all the hiding and the worry, both families had more or less embraced their relationship for what it grew into with little argument.

Mrs. Pierce smiled, placing a hand over Santana's to grip reassuringly.

"No one looks at her the way you do, Santana. That means more to a parent than you know."

* * *

><p>After a sad round of goodbyes at the Pierce's (which Santana purposely sat out in the car) and a quick appearance at her aunt's to see her mom before she too left, the pair retired to Santana's apartment for a quiet evening alone. They ate leftovers for dinner while cuddled on the couch, not even bothering to turn the TV on.<p>

"What time's your flight in the morning?" Santana ventured, having successfully avoided talking about her impending departure all day.

Brittany frowned, setting her bowl of food down and crawling under the blanket while Santana immediately regretted asking. She set her own plate down and climbed under the cover with Brittany to snuggle her close.

"I don't want you to go either, babe," she sighed.

Brittany sniffled and Santana realized she was crying. Lifting her head, she pushed the blanket back and reached her thumb to swipe a tear as it fell.

"Please don't cry," Santana begged, her voice already betraying her composure. "You're gonna make _me_ cry."

Brittany forced a smile, tears suddenly streaming down her face uncontrollably and you would've thought she'd just told her she ran over her cat, Santana had never seen her so upset before. The sight shattered her and soon enough they were both weeping.

"Time's gonna fly, you'll see," Santana encouraged, though mostly herself, "You'll be so busy you won't even notice, and then I'll come see your awesome show and be the proudest fiancée _ever_, Britt."

The smile that followed was more genuine, Brittany's teary eyes lighting up at the mention of the new title.

"I love you," she sobbed, cupping Santana's face to kiss her lips. It grew frantic so quickly Santana almost forgot what they were talking about.

"How long do we have?" Santana panted a few minutes later.

"Flight leaves at six," Brittany mumbled in between kisses, wasting no time in swiftly pulling Santana's top over her head before going for the belt buckle. "Have to be at the airport by four."

Santana's eyes flashed at the wall clock while stumbling out of her jeans.

"That gives us…" she shut her eyes to concentrate on the math when Brittany's wet mouth found her earlobe, "s-six hours… maybe seven."

About seven and a half hours later, Santana sped all the way to Fort Wayne International for Brittany to barely make it on the plane. Saying goodbye in a hurry was awful, but mostly because it sucked not telling Brittany she would see her sooner rather than later.

When Santana hadn't heard back from Brittany before she showed up at her door, she had purchased a ticket to visit her over New Year's since she had an entire two weeks off, and she figured seeing Brittany a few hours here and there was better than not seeing her at all. She had thought to surprise her then, totally thinking she was being the clever one.

Santana wanted to surprise her still, though nothing she could think of at the moment topped anything Brittany did in two days. She would certainly have to do better than awesome head and going to visit her in Vegas while on vacation.

A sleepless two days of overwhelming emotions later and Santana was alone with her thoughts again.

She felt her anxiety rise slowly like indigestion, rearing its ugly head after a delicious meal.

Because, you know, Santana had never thought she'd marry so young, and she was still _very_ young, so she had not at all thought about _marriage_.

Santana had once dreamed of leaving Lima to go to school in some big city, far away from home where she and Brittany could start a life together. What she ended up doing didn't really matter. It used to be that Santana had grandiose dreams about being discovered and becoming the next Beyoncé. But as soon as her feelings for her best friend consumed her, saving her relationship became priority. Living an open life with Brittany somewhere Santana could start from scratch became her new dream.

The last thing that had ever occurred to Santana was that Brittany would not only propose a year shy of their 21st birthday, but go to the lengths the girl did to make it an event. How could Santana say no to her? She couldn't.

But what Santana really wasn't sure she could do was the big gay wedding. A few years in and she still wasn't entirely comfortable being out. People still stared at them at the mall when they walked hand in hand, no matter how naturally it came to them. Santana did it because she loved Brittany, and her girlfriend was stunning so of course she was proud of her, but she still resented the ever present negative attention.

She also knew such a blatant display of PDA would make some of Santana's family uncomfortable and she feared how much it would hurt to see who didn't show because of that. Brittany would want a big family wedding, though.

_Maybe I can convince her to elope to New York just the two of us,_ she thought miserably.

Frustrated with herself and already missing Brittany terribly, Santana anxiously checked her phone for any missed calls or texts.

_Still nothing, what the fuck?_

She turned to bury her face in her pillow with a groan.

* * *

><p>When Santana came to, it was dark outside and she could hear the TV in the living room.<p>

"Hey, sleepyhead," Quinn greeted as Santana plopped down on the couch next to her. "Did Brittany make it out okay?"

Santana pouted, recalling the look on her girlfriend's face when she kicked her out of the car so she wouldn't miss her flight.

"Yeah."

"Did you tell her about New Year's?"

"No," Santana shook her head sadly. "Maybe I should've."

"No way, she'll be thrilled to see you. It'll be worth the wait."

Santana looked away distractedly, chewing on her bottom lip. Quinn pressed her foot against her thigh.

"What's wrong?"

Santana just shook her head again, turning her attention to the phone in her hand.

"You look fidgety," Quinn assessed, lifting her feet to Santana's lap. "Rub my feet."

She shot Quinn a look but her roommate ignored it, wiggling her toes insistently. With a roll of her eyes, Santana sighed and put her phone away.

* * *

><p>Santana had her first full-blown panic attack a week before senior prom. It shouldn't have been a shock to anyone. After all, spring semester had gone surprisingly smoothly.<p>

"_I should've known better," Santana grits through her teeth bitterly, glancing around the parking lot for suspects._

_Someone's clearly gone out of their way to shoe-polish her car and though she hasn't stopped long enough to read all of it, the capitalized word 'DYKES' most prominently stands out in giant letters across her windshield._

"_San, can we just get out of here?"_

_Santana turns to find her red-faced girlfriend scowling and it only makes her angrier. She stomps back towards her car until she notices the detail: there are arrows shooting from the giant letters pointing at the driver and passenger sides._

_The blood rushes to her face so fast she feels unsteady. She shoots a hand to touch the paint and realizes with dread that it's already dry. Mortified, Santana jumps inside and fumbles with her keys until Brittany reaches over to clasp a hand over her trembling one._

"_You okay?" Brittany asks, blue eyes searching worriedly. "You're turning gray."_

"_I'm fine," Santana replies quickly, sounding everything but. _

_She takes a quick moment to close her eyes and take a deep breath before turning the ignition on and driving to the nearest self-service car wash. Except her guardian angel must be on vacation today because as soon as they get there she remembers the place doesn't take credit cards and Brittany spent all of her cash on prom tickets earlier. She glances at her watch hoping she has enough time before her mom gets home._

_As her terrible luck would have it (and seriously, today can go fuck itself) it's her dad that arrives at least an hour earlier than usual to find her frantically scrubbing the windshield with soap while Brittany runs the hose._

"_Go inside," Santana orders in a panic but Brittany doesn't listen, instead rushing to stand close behind her as Mr. Lopez exits his car and walks up the driveway towards them with a perplexed look on his face._

"_What the hell happened?"_

_Santana's eyes go wide as do his the second he's close enough to read some of the things written on his daughter's car. He stops dead on his tracks and Santana starts to freak out because she hasn't had "the talk" with him yet and this is a totally fucked up way for him to find out._

_His eyes scan the words while she helplessly watches them register. She doesn't realize the color has drained from her face though, and when his expression changes, instinctively reaching out for her, Santana backs away so quickly that she crashes into Brittany._

"_Santana, are you okay?"_

_He pauses when she bursts out crying, tentatively reaching his hands to cup her face._

"_I can't… breathe."_

_She's taking giant gulps of air but her lungs feel completely empty, and her heart is pounding against her ribcage so loudly that her ears start ringing and she swears to god that she's having a fucking heart attack._

"_Breathe," he says calmly, though his eyes show nothing but recognition and concern._

"_I can't… I can't, Dad, my heart…" Santana chokes, continuing to exhale all the air from her lungs as quickly as she's inhaling it. "Something's not right!"_

_The more she panics the dizzier she feels and she's seriously seconds away from passing out._

"_What's wrong with her?" She hears Brittany's frightened voice all around her as her vision blurs._

"_Nothing, she's having a panic attack," his voice answers, the hands around her face shaking her eyes back open, "You're having a panic attack, Santana, just breathe."_

"_I _am_ breathing," she huffs with frustration, but he shakes his head at her._

"_You're hyperventilating, just take a deep breath and let it out slowly."_

_Santana does. After a few deep breaths her heart rate starts slowing to a normal rhythm again and dread replaces the dissipating fear._

"_Someone did this to you at school?"_

_Santana nods._

"_Why?"_

_She opens her mouth to say the words but they don't come. _

_Tears do, lots of them, and Mr. Lopez sighs and pulls her into his arms as she breaks into sobs once more. He catches Brittany's fearful eyes and closes his own to shake his head, silently dismissing her worry._

"_Because I'm gay, Daddy," Santana finally confesses brokenly._

Her father had simply held her then, his strong embrace never faltering. He'd heard those same words uttered before, and although he wasn't prepared to hear them again, at least he knew how not to react the second time around.

Mr. Lopez didn't say much about her confession after that, either. Instead he concerned himself with addressing the consequences it was already having in her life. He hated the way anti-depressants completely changed her sister, so he made it clear to Santana that they would deal with the anxiety issues naturally first. If he was convinced that she was giving it a good try and didn't feel any better, then they could talk about putting her on meds.

Not that Santana ever wanted to be on them. She would've died if people found that out, too.

* * *

><p>The second time Santana had a panic attack was on prom night.<p>

She hadn't had another one since coming out to her dad, but she'd also been channeling all of her anxious energy into running laps in the morning and studying for her finals. Sue had found out it was a group of freshmen Cheerios that wrote the hateful words on her car and kicked them out. The rest of the team did what they did best and terrorized them for it. Soon enough their secrets too were spelled out in shoe polish all over their lockers. Santana knew it was more in solidarity to Brittany than her, but she appreciated the karma all the same.

And yet something inside her inexplicably snapped when the limo pulled up. She began to panic; Brittany watching helplessly while Santana clutched her hand and refused to get out. The fact that her girlfriend looked about to cry only made Santana grow more anxious.

"_What's the matter with you, Santana?" Quinn reappears at the limo door. "We talked about taking this group picture all the way here and now we have to let other people go in front of us because you won't get out of the car!"_

_She takes one good look at Santana, realizes she's about to lose her shit and ruin her make up, too, and sighs before climbing back inside to sit by her friends._

"_What's wrong, San? It's just us. We love you."_

"_I can't. I just… I have this horrible feeling I'm gonna get Carried or something."_

_A few horns sound behind them as the dividing window lowers and the limo driver appears behind it._

"_Excuse me but, is the young man getting out here too or…?"_

_The three girls turn to notice Artie silently watching the scene unfold._

"_Tell you what," he says with a smile, "You guys go in, I'll hang back with Santana. We'll just drive around the block for a bit, cool?"_

_The limo driver nods but kicks Quinn and Brittany out when the driver behind them starts yelling obscenities. Brittany shoots a nervous glance between the two of them before she reluctantly lets Quinn drag her outside._

_Santana turns to question him but her jaw drops when Artie pulls a joint out of his tux pocket and lights it. She shoots a distressed look in the driver's direction._

"_Are you crazy?"_

_Artie pulls a drag and shakes his head, offering the joint to Santana._

"_Don't worry about him, he's cool."_

"_What do you mean, he's cool? How the fuck do you know?"_

"_I told him all about how this is my last chance to have fun like a normal kid," Artie shrugs and Santana just gapes._

"_What, you think I'm beyond pulling the cripple card? Might as well get something out of it."_

_Santana glances warily towards window again and back. Artie waves the joint in front of her face._

"_You gonna hit this or what?"_

Santana had smoked weed countless times before, but the effect it had on her that night was revealing. A ride around town later and she felt her mind ease, even allowing herself a smile when Artie pointed out what a genius he was.

They didn't make the group picture in the end, but they took one just the two of them to commemorate actually bonding over something.

Granted, they were also super stoned.

* * *

><p>Santana had decided that three weeks was long enough.<p>

Ignoring someone without so much as an explanation was pretty fucking childish in her book to begin with, but more importantly, she was completely dry.

Marching up the driveway and around the house, she could make out a game of Madden booming from the inside of the garage apartment as she approached. She knocked loudly upon reaching the door and then insistently when nothing happened. It took about half a minute of Santana pounding on the door like the LPD before the soundtrack of the game went mute.

"_It's open_," the voice on the other side returned, his tone almost suggesting she should've known this.

Santana tried the knob and was shocked to find it true. Far more annoyed then, she pushed the door open and slammed it shut behind her.

"What the fuck, dude? You don't return a motherfucking phone call for _three weeks_?"

Artie didn't even glance her way before returning to his game, ignoring Santana completely even when she scoffed. Because apparently he knew her well enough to know she wasn't about to storm back out.

With her tail halfheartedly between her legs, she took the bean bag beside him and picked up the second controller. When Artie continued to ignore her, she flung her hands up dramatically.

"You wanna play or what?"

Artie rolled his eyes but quit the game to let Santana pick a team, anyway. She picked the Bengals just to piss him off but he only smirked, picking some other team instead with whom he proceeded to kick her ass with. After a very frustrating third quarter, Santana gave up and tossed the remote aside.

"Why aren't you talking to me?"

The smug grin on Artie's face faded into a scowl. He abandoned his remote to reach inside the wooden box under his bed and pulled out the usual half ounce of Lemon G inside of an unlabeled medicine bottle.

"That'll be sixty for you today."

"Sixty? What the f—" Santana laughed at the price hike, shaking her head in disbelief. "No, you know what? Fuck it."

Santana tossed two fifties on his lap and grabbed the bottle, making a mental note to get nice and baked before coming back for the other half of her weed.

* * *

><p>"You waited up for me."<p>

Santana smiled as Brittany's beaming face appeared on her computer screen.

"Of course I waited up for you, baby."

"Kiss!" Brittany leaned towards her screen until all Santana could see on hers was the top of her head. She smiled and pressed her lips to the camera lens.

"Now me," Santana pointed to her own lips, but once again Brittany's face disappeared and Santana laughed.

Brittany's head resurfaced and if the oblivious smile on her face was any indication, her girlfriend hadn't a clue about the mechanics of teleconferencing. Santana gazed adoringly at her.

"How was your day?"

"Fantastic," Santana grinned, remembering the pipe in her hands and bringing it to her lips to light it.

"You replenished," Brittany observed casually, "How's Artie?"

Santana frowned, holding the smoke in her lungs for another beat before blowing it out.

"He's not talking to me."

"Why?" Brittany asked, eyes widening.

"I don't know, he's not talking to me."

Brittany frowned, too.

"Well, maybe you should find a new dealer."

Santana shrugged sadly.

"Maybe."

* * *

><p>Santana welcomed the new year right: wrapped around the most beautiful woman in one of Sin City's swankiest beds and a bottle of the finest champagne in her belly.<p>

It turned out that being engaged to a hotshot choreographer all of a sudden had its perks.

Her team noticed the pep in her step right away, the girls even daring to mock her for not yelling at them once even though they'd all stuffed their faces over the holidays against her advice and were now (as predicted) considerably harder to toss in the air.

"Practice is an hour early tomorrow!" Santana yelled into her megaphone, just to prove her point.

"And bring your puke buckets! You'll need them!"

They bitched and moaned as they filed out of the gym but no way was Santana bringing a losing team back from Nationals. Besides, she had dismissed them early on the first day back and that was way nice of her.

Santana was almost out of weed, though, and the high of her recent vacation was bound to die down as soon as the angst from being apart settled back in. She'd been texting Artie to no reply since getting on the plane to come home and was a determined to pay him a visit before dinner.

She could hear another game of Madden going as she walked up to his apartment and stopped to listen for a moment, making sure he was alone before trying the door. It was locked.

"Fucker," she muttered to herself then proceeded to bang on his door until he answered it.

"This shit is getting so old."

Artie gave her a bored look and wheeled back to his spot in front of the TV without responding. Thankfully Santana had smoked her last bowl before coming over and she currently had all the patience in the world. They played two long and heated games in silence before he finally spoke.

"What do you want, Santana?"

She wanted an explanation for the last month of their non-existent friendship but judging by the way he obviously couldn't stand looking at her right then, Santana knew she had to trick him into telling her what his deal was.

"I want the other half of my weed."

"Excuse me?"

"I paid for a fourth last week and you only gave me half."

"I don't think so. You overpaid for an eighth."

Santana sighed and rolled her eyes. "Seriously, dude?"

"What do you want me to do, Santana? My supplier downsized and his prices went up."

She narrowed her eyes and studied him for a second but his eyes said nothing. It was like talking to a robot.

"You know, you could just do what friends do and sell it to me at cost. It's not like you're losing money."

Artie chuckled dryly before reaching inside his wooden box and maybe it shouldn't have, but it hurt Santana's feelings a little bit. She didn't let it show, though.

"You should probably find a new dealer."

Until he said that…

"Why?"

Santana became aware that she was suddenly wearing her heart on her sleeve when Artie turned back to hand her the weed and caught her eyes. The sarcasm drained from his features and he looked away, glancing nervously in the space around them until his eyes briefly landed on her ring. Artie looked away quickly after that but it felt like enough confirmation for Santana's only suspicion. She subconsciously hid the ring away with her other hand.

"That's what this is about, isn't it?"

"Santana…" Artie sighed, suddenly sounding more like her friend and less like the asshole that had been ignoring her phone calls. "She's just gonna do the same thing to you and you know it."

"Do _what_, Artie? Leave me? Because I'm pretty sure that's the complete opposite of what she meant when she proposed."

Artie hesitated before shaking his head grimly.

"Cheat on you."

He said the words so matter-of-factly that Santana only blinked once before her eyes watered and she shot up to get away from him as quickly as possible.

"Santana…"

"No, I'm not trying to have this conversation with you," she cut him off, already mad at herself for letting him get under her skin. She rushed for the door and grasped the knob before whipping her head back to shoot him an angry look.

"And you know what? I'm really fucking tired of playing the Jolie to your Aniston. If we can't be friends just say so."

"I don't think we can be friends."

Santana hadn't even meant it (not really) but judging by his lack of hesitation, Artie certainly had. She opened her mouth to cuss him out and immediately felt foolish, so she decided against it. Shooting him what she intended as the meanest look she could muster but probably looked like the most pathetic, Santana stepped outside and slammed the door behind her.

She knew it was masochistic, and part of her didn't even blame him for hating her, but Santana refused to give up on them.

* * *

><p><em>I can't even try to be happy for you. Who wants a friend like that? I'm sorry if I hurt you but you hurt me way worse. Even if you don't think that's fair. It's easier if we just stop pretending to like each other is all I'm saying.<em>

The text came before she even reached her car door. Santana laughed bitterly and tossed the phone on the passenger seat.

"Asshole," she sobbed. The fact that she was suddenly crying making her feel like an even bigger idiot.

Somehow she had convinced herself that they were friends. They hung out more than Santana hung out with anyone anymore, other than Quinn. All they ever did was get high, play video games, and watch movies together, but that was enough for Santana to consider Artie her friend. They laughed at jokes only the two of them were fucked up enough to find funny, shared endless discussions about food, politics, hip hop, and pretty much everything they were surprised to find they even had in common.

Except for Brittany, because Santana was afraid to hear how he felt about her two years later and Artie was afraid he'd lose her completely. The unmentionable was the glue to Artana, deceptively ineffective as it may have been.

Santana allowed herself a few angry tears on the way home but her make-up was ruined by the time she reached her parking spot. She sat there for a couple of minutes, trying to compose herself and avoid Quinn's inevitable 'I told you so' but her nightly Skype date was quickly approaching and her face was still puffy.

"Hi," Quinn greeted from behind the book she was reading cuddled up on their couch and frowned as soon as she noticed. "You okay...?"

Her roommate went to get up but Santana rushed past her and shut her bedroom door behind her. She booted up her laptop and reached for the medicine inside her pocket. At least she'd remembered to grab

it on her way out. Loading a bowl, she brought the pipe to her lips and lit it with a shaky hand. She inhaled deep, held it, and watched her hand slowly stop trembling before exhaling with a sigh.

"What's wrong?"

Brittany's concerned face appeared on her screen and Santana frowned.

"Artie's a bitch."

The way Brittany grimaced made Santana practically drop her head in shame. Here she was, every wish she had made for them coming true, and they were still arguing about Artie.

"I'm sorry."

"For what? What did he do now?"

Santana didn't appreciate the hint of annoyance in her girlfriend's voice and failed a feeble attempt not to resentfully glare at the screen. Brittany challenged by shifting to cross her arms, looking a little tired and a lot fed up.

"He said he didn't think we could be friends anymore. Because we're getting married, I guess," Santana shrugged dejectedly, the fight quickly draining out her. "He says he can't be happy for us."

Brittany took her words in calmly, her eyes moving back and forth, searching Santana's as if trying to solve a puzzle. Suddenly they stilled and her features softened, leaning forward to prop her elbow on her desk and rest her cheek on her hand thoughtfully.

"And you weren't expecting that," Brittany stated, recognizing the problem. Probably just then realizing exactly how clueless Santana felt.

"Not really. I don't know what I expected. Not that."

Brittany shook her head regretfully.

"You're trying to fix something that's not up to you to fix and you're making an even bigger mess, you know that? Look at you. You're so upset. Why do you even care if he approves or not?"

"Because we're friends."

Brittany sighed sadly. "But honey, to him you're not."

"That's mean."

"It's only mean because it's the truth and the truth hurts sometimes. You know that."

"Everyone thinks I'm just trying to prove something to myself but I'm not," Santana spit out defensively, "He's your friend, too,Brittany. And we're getting married, so if he wants you in his life then he needs to understand that I come with the package."

Brittany rolled her eyes. "He won't be much longer if he keeps making you this upset."

"Ugh, you're not even listening to me."

Brittany's face reddened all the way to the tip of her ears, the hand formerly holding her head up landing on the desk with a slap that startled Santana.

"_I am_ listening to you. It's you that's not listening to me. I love Artie, I do, but I'm in love with _you_. Our friendship's already hard because of that and you constantly trying to make it up to him isn't making it any easier. If you keep throwing yourself at him and he keeps rejecting you, I can't be his friend. But if you would just give it time, babe? I know things will get better..."

Santana's face flushed and she pouted, shooting her a doubtful look. Brittany had been telling Santana to give it time for way too long now.

"Or they won't," Brittany added as an afterthought with a nonchalant shrug. "His loss."

* * *

><p>Santana decided that it wasn't fair. Not two years after making the smartest decision of her life, evidenced by the cloud she was currently residing in. Maybe she really was trying to prove something to herself. Maybe Santana felt bad for Artie because she sabotaged any chance he had, regardless of the fact that Santana had been part of the picture for much longer than he had presently. No, it wasn't fair.<p>

So she gave her business to the Chronic Lady instead and busied herself with planning her trip to see Mike and Brittany's show opening in a month. She refused to let his inability to move the fuck on ruin how surprisingly awesome her life was turning out.

Santana was still unsure about the whole gay wedding thing, though. She didn't know if she was supposed to propose to Brittany, too, but every time she considered it, she realized that she couldn't afford a ring nearly as nice as hers and the idea went out the window.

"What about a surprise bachelorette party?"

Santana looked up from her lunch curiously at Quinn, who smirked back.

"Go on…"

"I mean Britt would like that," Quinn shrugged. Santana grinned just thinking about the possibilities.

"You mean like with strippers?"

Quinn rolled her eyes.

"I guess. Brittany would love that I'm sure."

"Holy shit, my sister's a club promoter in the west coast. I should totally call her and see if I can afford to rent a club."

"Or we could all just go to a nice dinner and go to a strip club after. No need to break the bank. You still have a wedding to plan."

Santana frowned and pushed her salad around her plate, her appetite lost.

"I don't know. Maybe we should just elope. I don't want to go through the awkwardness of inviting my family to a commitment ceremony. Or anyone outside our immediate friend circle for that matter."

"Why?"

"Because it'll be weird, Quinn," Santana rolled her eyes and sighed exasperatedly, "I mean, do we both wear dresses? Because I'm not wearing a suit and Brittany will look stunning in a dress so there's no way I'm letting her wear one, either."

Quinn opened her mouth and closed it quickly, a little taken aback by Santana's sudden tone.

"You can wear whatever you want, San, it's your wedding," she replied after a beat, shaking her head in confusion. "Why are you upset? What did I say?"

Santana's eyes widened a bit, blushing as she realized she had just kind of snapped for no reason.

"I'm sorry, I'm just PMSey, is all," she lied.

Quinn didn't look convinced judging by the way she narrowed her eyes, but it was the look she always gave Santana when she was about to let one slide. After a thoughtful moment she returned her attention to her food and changed the subject.

"So who's all going to this thing?"

"Tina, Mercedes, Kurt, You, Finn, Rachel, and Puck. Sam can't get away that week. I'm not sure if Blaine is going after all. I think Kurt broke up with him again."

"I don't know how you guys do the long distance thing," Quinn shook her head sadly. "God bless you and Britt."

Santana sighed and pushed her plate away.

"Artie's not going then?"

"No fucking clue. He stopped returning Britt's phone calls, too, so I guess not."

"That boy," Quinn shook her head again. "I think it's for the best."

"Really?" Santana questioned, curious as to her roommate's opinion on the matter. It wasn't something they ever talked about for long before Santana lost her patience and walked away.

"Really," Quinn said resolutely, reaching for her lemonade and taking a sip, carefully considering the open door before proceeding with her two cents.

"If I were you I would've told him to get lost a long time ago."

Santana didn't hide her surprise. "Really? Why?"

"Because…" Quinn shrugged, "He never got over Brittany. I would have a problem with her maintaining a friendship with the ex she cheated on with _you_. I don't trust him with her."

"Yeah but you're kind of insecure like that, Q. No offense. I probably should be considering I'm insecure in almost everything else, but I trust Britt."

"That's good," Quinn smiled genuinely, "And non-taken. I've just been on both sides of that coin. You never see it coming and I'm not so sure karma's done with me yet."

"Maybe because you keep going back to Hudson?"

"That's not fair," Quinn glared. Santana lifted her arms in surrender.

"I'm just saying…"

"Well don't."

"But seriously, I don't want to see Finn turn you into that hot mess all over again. I'll kill him. You can pass that on."

"I will," Quinn's expression softened and she smiled a little, shaking her head at Santana.

* * *

><p>"Hey stud, Dad told me you're engaged to a chick. Right on."<p>

Santana blushed. Her older sister might as well have been her older brother. Michelle and Santana definitely looked related thanks to their father's strong genes but their personalities couldn't have been more opposite. They barely knew each other.

"Thanks," she replied awkwardly, "Actually that's what I needed to talk to you about. My girlfriend's working in Vegas right now and I was thinking about throwing her a surprise bachelorette party mid-February. Any suggestions? I'm not exactly looking to spend a fortune but definitely willing to spend enough to throw her a semi-glamorous bash."

"What kind of club? And how much is 'enough' exactly?"

"Um, a strip club? But nothing trashy. I need like a classy joint with the hottest girls in town. And uh," Santana lifted her hand to the screen, "Enough to thank her for this without having to declare bankruptcy after?"

Michelle laughed and whistled. "Damn sis, who's the keeper?"

Santana stared blankly at her computer screen. She hardly spoke to her sister but she had known Brittany for almost as long as she'd known Santana.

"Uh, you remember Brittany..?"

"No fucking way!" Michelle's eyes widened with recognition and Santana winced at the memory. "The kid I caught you playing doctor with that summer at Uncle Frankie's?"

Santana blushed furiously as her sister threw her head back and laughed heartily.

"Shit, San," Michelle smiled proudly, "That's fucking cute."

"Thank you Chelle," Santana shyly smiled back.

"Don't thank me yet! Imma hook you up with a sweet spot on one condition…"

Santana began smirking triumphantly. "What's that?"

"I get an invite."

"Done," Santana snickered, welcoming the opportunity to share something personal with her only sibling.

Just then a message announcing Brittany's call popped up on Santana's screen.

"Speaking of the devil, that's my lady. I gots to go. Call me when you have something?"

"You got it. Later sis."

Santana smiled happily as she disconnected with Michelle and Brittany's face appeared on her screen.

"Hi baby," she greeted automatically before noting the expression on the blonde's face. Brittany was sucking on the skin under her bottom lip like she always did when she was anxious and her eyes were dancing frantically back and forth.

"What's the matter?" Santana asked right away.

"I have to tell you something but you have to promise to stay calm and not do anything stupid…"

"What happened?"

Brittany opened her mouth to tell her but hesitated. "You promise?"

"Britt—" Santana started to impatiently raise her voice but caught herself quickly, shutting her eyes closed and shaking the anxious feeling away. "Just tell me," she finished through clenched teeth.

"Artie just left…"

Santana shook her head, entirely confused but already pretty sure she wouldn't like whatever her girlfriend had to say next.

"And?" She pressed when Brittany didn't automatically continue, "What the hell did he want?"

"I… told him I wasn't interested."

"Interested in what?"

"Santana…"

"Interested in what, B?" Santana asked miserably. Brittany sighed unhappily and dropped her eyes to the desk in front of her.

"He proposed to me."

* * *

><p>That night Santana calmly told Quinn what had happened and tried her very best to stay cool and collected. Quinn didn't say anything except "Let's roll a joint" and they smoked it in practical silence, both pretending to watch an old rerun of Cash Cab when they were really watching Santana's hands never quite stop shaking while Quinn drew soothing circles on Santana's back.<p>

The following day was torture. Santana couldn't concentrate at school, telling her captain she had a massive migraine and asking her to take over practice while she watched from the stands, avoiding Brittany's frantic texts at the top of every hour. She was about to reply that she was 'fine, just busy' when Quinn texted her.

_He's back. I'm outside in 20._

Without thinking twice, she dismissed practice early and cursed herself under her breath. At this rate she was sure if they lost Nationals it would be on her own lack of work ethic but certain things couldn't wait.

She hadn't exactly promised Brittany she wouldn't do anything stupid. Santana purposely continued to ignore her plea throughout the rest of their conversation, only promising to smoke a bowl and go straight to bed without giving Brittany the chance to argue, telling her that she loved her, and shutting her computer screen.

Santana figured Artie would be waiting for her, but he looked stunned as ever when she nearly knocked his door down and he swung it open to find her standing there, all boiling skin and clenched teeth. She had rehearsed a few choice words in her head all night, unable to sleep, just thinking about this moment.

But when the moment came, all Santana could do was pull her fist back and throw her entire body into it as she lurched forward and connected with his nose, feeling the bone crushing under her knuckles. The terrified scream that escaped Mrs. Abrams' mouth alerted Santana of her presence and she staggered back quickly, eyes startled before returning their attention to Artie. He was holding his nose, removing the shaky hand to stare at the blood pooling there in disbelief.

"What is wrong with you?"

Santana ignored his mom and quickly stepped up to him again, grabbing him by the collar of his shirt and lifting him a few inches off his chair. Mrs. Abrams gasped in horror and Artie just stared at her with wide eyes. He was breathing hard and she could hear the blood already making it difficult. A rush of guilt suddenly hit her as she realized that maybe she had gone a little too far.

"Lose her number," Santana snarled before pushing him back on his chair.

Even the force she put behind that last shove had felt unnecessary and her stomach clenched. She felt the rage drain from her as quickly as it had consumed her, leaving her with a heavy heart in its wake. Santana awkwardly apologized to his outraged mother and slipped out, jogging back to Quinn's car. She hadn't even noticed she was cradling her left hand until Quinn's big hazel eyes flew to her swelling fingers and got impossibly bigger.

"Shit! What happened?"

"Hit him," Santana admitted before glancing nervously back towards the house. "But his mom was there, we have to go. Like _now_."

It hadn't been a minute after Quinn sped off when Brittany called her phone almost on instinct. Not having really thought out what had just transpired, Santana didn't have time to think about what to tell her fiancée and soon found herself regretting not promising her to stay out of it.

She also wasn't sure if Artie had already ratted her out but Santana had a pretty good feeling he wouldn't dare be that stupid ever again.

"Is that Britt?" Quinn asked when the phone rang a third time and she continued to stare dumbly at it. Santana nodded as she decidedly sent the call to voice mail, Quinn's phone ringing almost immediately after. Her roommate reached inside her purse, glanced at the screen, and handed it to Santana.

"You better talk to her," Quinn advised, "What if his mom already called?"

Santana groaned, not having thought of that either, and answered. "It's me."

"Santana? Why aren't you at work? Wait, did you just ignore my call?"

"I'm with Quinn," Santana replied simply, closing her eyes and pinching the bridge of her nose as the adrenaline subsided and her hand began throbbing with pain. "Can I call you back?"

"Santana _do not_ hang up this phone..."

"I'm sorry," Santana croaked before disconnecting the call and handing Quinn her phone back. "She doesn't know."

"San, you should take that ring off," Quinn glanced at her hand worriedly.

Santana took a good look at her hand for the first time and realized she had decked Artie with her engagement ring on. It served him right, but she got his blood all over it and Brittany really didn't deserve that. Her eyes teared up just thinking about her face if she could see her beautiful ring now.

"Fuck!" She winced when she tried to remove it.

"Let me see," Quinn reached over and before Santana knew what was happening, Quinn had yanked her ring off and she was screaming in pain.

"Quinn! What the fuck?"

"I'm sorry! I'm sorry!" Her eyes were apologetic as she winced with Santana, only imagining how badly it must have hurt. "It was either that or cutting your ring off at the hospital, trust me!"

Santana sobbed dramatically and glared at Quinn but otherwise didn't give her anymore shit for it. In fact, she was incredibly grateful that she hadn't let it come to that. Suddenly, as the sharp pain eased a bit, Santana had an unexpected moment of clarity.

"Will you be my maid of honor?"

"What?" Quinn laughed in surprise and Santana followed, her own words sounding foreign to her ears.

"If she marries me after this, I mean."

"San, if she doesn't marry you after what you just did, I will."

Santana snorted, causing both girls to laugh harder. "You love thugs, don't you?"

"I love someone who can throw a good punch, yes," she smiled to herself this time and Santana rolled her eyes.

"Oh my god, Quinn. I seriously do not understand what the fuck you see in Finn. More importantly, he's terrible in bed. He couldn't have possibly gotten much better with Rachel fucking Berry."

"What do you know, you big lesbian?"

"Hey, I may be gay but I give props to a good lay when I has it."

"Whatever," Quinn rolled her eyes as she reached their apartment and parked her car.

"Whatever! Please, his dick is so unimpressive. It's not nearly as nice as Puckerman's."

Quinn's forehead hit her steering wheel with a thud. "Oh my god, Santana. Please stop talking."

Santana laughed with gusto, forgetting for a blissful second what had just led to that moment until her phone beeped announcing a text message:

_If you don't call me right now we're gonna have a serious problem._

"I, uh…" Santana gulped, "I better call Brittany back."

Quinn lifted her head and just nodded, giving her a reassuring smile. Santana waited until she was in the privacy of her room to dial her.

It rang once.

"What did you do?"

"I'm sorry…"

"San. Tell me what happened."

"I went to see him, obviously," Santana blurted out nervously, "I just wanted to tell him to get lost, you know? It's not fair. What he did, Britt, that shit was _so_ disrespectful—"

"Did you touch him?"

"…"

"Damn it, Santana!"

"Babe, he fucked up! You don't do that to someone. You don't propose to an engaged woman because _she's fucking engaged._"

"But I asked you, no, I _begged _you—"

"Do you understand what he did, Brittany? Do you have any idea what that feels like? To have someone disregard your relationship so much they have the balls to go behind your back and try to take it away from you, too?"

"Will you_ listen_ to yourself?"

Santana scoffed, her face flushing in both anger and shame. Finding herself speechless for a second time that day, she hung up the call. A bitter feeling rushed her then and she fought back tears until her phone rang again, answering it at the precise moment she lost that particular battle.

"So what, it's karma now? I should just take it and be grateful you chose me, is that it?" Santana cried into her phone. She could hear Brittany sighing heavily on the other end indicating she likely hadn't meant to press that specific button.

"Baby, you know that's not what I meant. I'm sorry. I just don't get why you have to use your fists to tell people things."

"Is that what you would've done, then?" Santana asked sounding indignant, though in truth she was genuinely curious. Her fists were the only way she knew how to communicate an extremely important message (i.e. who's the head bitch in charge) within a small window of opportunity.

"I don't understand what you mean…"

"If it'd been Noah that proposed to me yesterday you would've what, called him to have a serious talk about it? Because if you mean to tell me you would've left it completely alone otherwise, I call bullshit."

"Well _yeah_, I mean... probably."

"Probably."

"No…"

"No?"

A silent moment passed before Brittany sighed in defeat.

"No," she grumbled beside herself, "I would've gotten on the first flight to New York and punched him in the face."

Santana really couldn't help the hint of a smile in her voice when she simply said, "Okay then." Quinn may have been onto something after all because picturing Brittany defending her honor like that was totally hot.

"Is he hurt…?"

"I might have broken his nose," she shrugged sadly, still a little embarrassed for letting her anger get the best of her. "He'll live, though."

"Are _you_ hurt?"

"My hand hurts a little bit," Santana lied, "No biggie."

"Well, I'm sorry I'm not there to kiss it better. That's your punishment now."

Never wanting anything more in her life at that moment, the distance between them became so suddenly obvious that she merely sobbed in response.

"Santana, listen to me," Brittany pleaded softly, "No matter what happens, _ever_, please just promise me one thing..."

"_What?_" Santana whimpered, perpetually weary of making promises to Brittany she didn't know if she could keep but would surely die trying.

"Never doubt how much I love you."

* * *

><p>Quinn was making them sandwiches when Santana emerged from her room, clutching her head with her good hand. She fetched a Ziploc already filled with ice from the freezer as soon as she saw her approach the kitchen.<p>

"Headache?"

"Pounding," Santana replied miserably, climbing on a bar stool and reaching for her weed box.

Quinn grabbed the lighter and lit the bowl for her when Santana realized she couldn't quite do it herself, somehow also managing to produce two ibuprofen tablets and a glass of water out of thin air. Santana eyed the pills curiously before exhaling the smoke from her lungs.

"What are you, my fairy godmother now?"

"Nope," Quinn grinned while carefully taking Santana's hand in hers to ice it. "Your maid of honor, remember?"

"Oh wow, okay," Santana rolled her eyes and smiled in amusement. "I'll take it."

Quinn stepped up her pampering to a whole new level though when after their meal she offered to do Santana's nails, too.

"You know this isn't a paid position, right?"

"I know," Quinn nodded, eyes trained on brushing cherry red over one of Santana's toenails, "But you had a rough day and I'm your best friend."

Santana peered at Quinn from behind her magazine. "So Brittany put you up to this?"

"Doesn't mean I don't still want to," Quinn stated simply, pulling back to inspect her work before moving on to the other foot. Santana smiled and went back to thumbing through the candid celebrity section.

"Okay, am I too gay or is Kristen Bell way too hot for Dax Shepard?"

Quinn shrugged. "He's not very attractive. Nice body, though, I guess."

"Nah, not nice enough," Santana dismissed quickly.

"For her, though? I mean, she's no Megan Fox."

Santana could have sworn Quinn had just spoken an alien language. She turned perplexed eyes on her roommate, flipping the magazine over to point at the girl in the picture. "This goddess right here..."

Quinn glanced past it to look back at Santana with a sweet smile.

"You know you have a type, right?"

Santana turned the magazine back around to take a second look. "Hmm."

Quinn finished the first coat in silence before speaking up again.

"He's a good dad."

Santana looked up, confusion covering her face. "Huh?"

"Finn. You said earlier you don't know what I see in him. He's a good dad."

"Oh..." Santana's cheeks warmed inexplicably, finding no argument against it. She wasn't sure why it surprised her that this was exactly the kind of quality Quinn would find attractive in a mate.

"Yeah, you're right."

* * *

><p>Due to circumstances beyond their control, the production of Mike and Brittany's show fell behind schedule a few weeks, pushing the opening to the very next day after Santana's Cheerios were to compete at Nationals. Quinn had been helping with their routine all semester so Santana had naturally asked her to chaperone along, which meant they both had to change their flight schedules to travel directly from Orlando to Vegas the morning of the show.<p>

Brittany sent a car for them at the airport, unable to get away from last minute rehearsals. It took them directly to Mike and Brittany's hotel suite at the Monte Carlo. Quinn's jaw practically hit the floor as the concierge showed them inside.

"Right?" Santana stood next her in the middle of the living room, still awed by the amount of luxury her girl had been living in over the last year.

"Holy crap, why on earth would you want to live with me in Lima when you could be _here_?"

Santana shook her head. "This isn't mine, its Brittany's."

"Well it's about to be yours, too, honey."

"I wish," Santana scoffed. "The hotel hosts the show so they get to live here for free. They can't actually afford this place."

Quinn rolled her eyes. "Well she's young and this is where she lives _now_, that's not a bad start. Why are you being Debbie Downer right now?"

"Am not," Santana crossed her arms defensively and shrugged.

The bellboy set the last piece of luggage inside and the concierge announced there was a bottle of white wine in the fridge for them before exiting the room.

"Your favorite," Quinn brought her hands to her hips and turned to look at her sternly. "Seriously, Santana. Most people in your shoes would be squealing with joy right now, do you really have to find something wrong with everything?"

Genuinely offended, Santana blushed. "Christ, Quinn, I never said I wasn't _happy_. I just feel a little opportunistic sweeping in at the exact moment my girlfriend kinda hits the jackpot, is all…"

"She proposed to _you_, remember? And since when do you have a problem being taken care of? That's practically all you've ever wanted!"

"Well people change, okay? I don't want Brittany to _take care_ of me. I want us to take care of each other. That's what a marriage is supposed to be, right? Not a stupid wedding. That's just the easy part."

"Santana…" Quinn tilted her head, concerned suddenly etched on her face. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

Santana's eyes widened in disbelief. "Q, why would you ask me that? Of course I do."

Quinn sighed with relief and shook her head. "I'm sorry," she smiled, reaching out to hug Santana apologetically.

"She's crazy about you, you know? And you're a miserable bitch without her. I just wish you'd stop waiting for the other shoe to drop and fully enjoy what the two of you have, which is so fucking rare."

Santana tightened her grip around Quinn before pulling back.

"Because it always does?" She shrugged but then immediately rolled her eyes at the sound of her own words. "I don't know. I guess I'm a little freaked out that she wants to do this so soon, but truthfully I'm gonna marry her anyway, so when we actually do it doesn't really matter…"

"San," Quinn shook her head softly. "What are you so scared of? I don't get it. Your family loves you. Your friends love you. Brittany loves you. Life is a series of ups and downs, the other shoe is _always _going to drop. What matters is that you have someone to hold you and be there when it does."

Santana sighed, smiling and nodding. "You're right."

"I'm always right," Quinn chuckled. "Now go get that bottle of wine."

"Quinn, it's 10 AM."

"Um, excuse me, I'm still very much on east coast time."

The girls were on their second glass when Finn came knocking, taking Quinn away for a little gambling before lunch. Santana decided to take a bath then, the long road to winning her first national championship title as coach having finally taken a toll on exhausted muscles. She had almost dozed off when Brittany popped in, stripping out of her clothes excitedly and giggling at her good fortune of finding Santana in the tub naked after two months apart.

They fooled around until the water got cold and then moved to the bedroom where they made love for hours before Brittany's stomach started to growl.

"Mmm, I have to eat something," she hummed against Santana's skin while trailing kisses from her chest to her neck and finally to her mouth.

"You just did," Santana sighed contentedly, tasting herself on Brittany's lips.

Brittany slapped her ass playfully and Santana groaned as she slipped away from her arms. She propped herself up on an elbow and watched her move gracefully about the room. It wasn't until Brittany was rummaging through her luggage that she noticed the amount of suitcases that littered that side of the room.

"Babe? Why are you packed?"

Brittany shot up and turned around quickly. She opened her mouth to say something but then closed it, frowning. Santana eyed her curiously.

"What's going on?"

"I wanted to surprise you," she sighed disappointedly before walking back over with a sheepish smile and crawling towards Santana until she was sitting on her knees in front of her.

"I'm coming home with you," Brittany whispered happily.

"You are?" Santana's eyes lit up and Brittany grinned.

"But wait, I thought this gig was for a few more months?"

Brittany shook her head. "My contract technically ends tonight. I had the option to extend six months but I turned it down."

"Really? Why?"

Brittany frowned. "You're not happy about this."

Santana sat up to cup her face and kiss her reassuringly. "Baby, of course I'm happy. I want you with me all the time but, are you sure this is what you want to do?"

Brittany smiled confidently and nodded.

"Okay then," Santana smiled back. "You're coming home with me."

* * *

><p>Mike and Brittany's show opening was surreal. All of their friends were there to witness the breathtaking magnitude of what they had created together. Santana bawled her eyes out when at the end the entire theater gave the cast a standing ovation. Afterwards they were escorted backstage and invited to celebrate with the entire crew as they toasted the success of the show with champagne, most of which ended up all over the performers and musicians as the producers sprayed the room and hollered.<p>

Michelle came through in a big way and got Santana a crazy good deal on a VIP room at one of the city's most popular strip clubs, complete with bottle service for the entire dance crew and their friends. Mike wanted to host a dinner for the dancers anyway so they joined forces. They had another room reserved at one of the hotel's restaurants after the show to celebrate seeing their blood, sweat, and tears successfully pay off. Everyone in attendance was already aware of the bachelorette extravaganza to follow except for Brittany, who took the chance to finally introduce Santana to her work family.

Every single one of them told her how much they'd heard about her and how great it was to finally meet her. They each hugged her as if they'd known Santana their entire lives, reminding Santana how much she loved being around dancers. She briefly wondered if she'd be this carefree had she stuck with her lessons as a kid.

When Santana revealed to Brittany that they would be celebrating their bachelorette night a little early, she squealed and insisted they go back to the suite to change. By the time she emerged from the room wearing the shortest shorts and heels that extended Brittany's legs for days, Santana wasn't sure she wanted a lap dance from anybody but her. If it hadn't been for the fact that everyone was already downstairs waiting in the limo she would've pushed Brittany back inside and stripped her herself.

Michelle was already there when they finally arrived. She slipped behind Santana as they filed into the VIP room and flung an arm around her sister's shoulders.

"What do you think?"

Their friends quickly took residence at the tables throughout and started pouring shots. Rachel was already glaring at Santana while Puck ogled the cocktail waitress.

"It's perfect!" Santana clapped her hands together, turning to hug Michelle. "Thank you so much."

"Anything for my baby sis," she winked.

Santana slipped her arm around Brittany's waist. "You remember Brittany…"

"How could I forget?" Michelle smirked.

"Hi Michelle," Brittany grinned and blushed for all the wrong reasons.

"Congratulations on the show and tying the knot! Please," she gestured to the table reserved for them. "Enjoy."

"You sure you wanna marry me and not my sister?" Santana grumbled when Michelle was out of earshot.

Brittany giggled and leaned in to peck her lips. "Definitely. Thank you baby, this is awesome."

They had started drinking back at the restaurant and her sister had arranged for several bottles of bubbly in the two stretch limos that it took to transfer the entire party to the club, so it wasn't long before everyone was having a grand time. Even Rachel had loosened up after a few cocktails, sharing a lap dance with Brittany from one of the male strippers. Santana had made sure they had at least a couple with Brittany in mind but as it turned out the majority of the men in the party were gay so it worked out perfectly.

Mike's girlfriend was beyond drunk and attempting to give him a lap dance herself when Santana watched him slip away to the bathroom. It was unisex, with a stall and a urinal that everyone started using in groups as the alcohol continued to flow and the need to go increased. Already fairly inebriated herself, Santana didn't think twice before pushing past the door and hopping to sit on the countertop.

"Uhh, can I help you?" Mike froze, awkwardly glancing at Santana out of the corner of his eye.

"The show is amazing, Mike. I can't believe you guys put all that together. I'm so proud of you."

"Well we just choreogra—"

"Brittany said they offered to extend her contract?"

"Yeeaah… Listen, I can't pee like this."

Santana reached behind her and turned on the faucet. "So you know she turned it down?"

Mike shut his eyes and sighed when he suddenly started to go. "Yeah, why?"

"Well, what do you think?"

"I don't know what you mean."

"I mean, you helped her get here… what now? What do you think her next move should be?"

Mike shook himself off and zipped his pants up, moving to rinse his hands under the running water.

"I think she should marry you," he shrugged.

"Mike, I'm serious."

"Santana, dude, I know you're super pro 'Independent Brittany' and all, but you gotta stop thinking for her, too."

Santana pulled her head back and gasped resentfully. "What do you mean?"

"You can't tell her to make her own decisions then plot against her efforts," Mike shook his head, reaching for a paper towel before turning to Santana who continued to gape at him.

"Look. This has been a pretty sweet year, I'm not gonna lie. Not only am I getting paid pretty fucking well, but I also get to live in a kick ass suite with concierge service for free." He threw his arms up and laughed. "I don't even have rent to pay! You know what I did with my first paycheck? I put a down payment on my Escalade. Brittany? She put a down payment on _that ring_."

Mike pointed at the diamond and Santana blushed, subconsciously reaching to touch it. He smiled.

"This girl knows exactly what she wants out of life, Santana. Let her do her fucking thing already, yes?"

Santana's shoulders slumped as she aversely nodded in response. Mike sighed.

"Come on, I want some ass and tities in my face. Don't you want ass and tities in your face?"

"Yes," Santana muttered guiltily.

"Then after you…"

His girlfriend had passed out on the couch so Mike poured them two shots and they cheered to Santana getting super laid for throwing a sick bachelorette party before beckoning two female strippers over. The girl that climbed on her lap was a gorgeous Latina with the second nicest ass Santana had ever laid eyes on.

"Hi," she smirked and sunk further into the plush seat.

"I hear you're getting married…"

"Mhmm," Santana nodded lazily. The girl pursed her lips and reached behind her back to unclasp her bra.

"Too bad," she purred, pulling the garment off and throwing it aside.

Santana licked her lips at the sight before her even though it was starting to get a little blurry. She felt the girl's hair cascading over her face as she leaned down and closed her eyes. She took a deep breath, scrunching up her nose at the unfamiliar shampoo/perfume combination before it was gone completely and Santana realized with dismay that so was the girl. She opened up her eyes just in time to catch Brittany pulling her off Santana and taking her place, a lustful smile creeping out the corner of her mouth.

"No fair," Santana pouted, but Brittany shook a finger at her.

"I can do better, baby," she promised and in true Brittany fashion carelessly pulled her top over her head.

Santana sat up a little straighter, grinning and circling her arms around Brittany's waist to bring their bodies closer together. She pressed a kiss to Brittany's chest and inhaled her scent with a blissful smile on her lips. Brittany grabbed her face and pulled her up to attach her mouth to Santana's. They kissed sloppily, all lips and teeth and tongue with a tequila after taste. The grinding motion of Brittany's hips was innocent at first but it grew heated the moment Santana's hands crept up the bottom of her shorts and squeezed. Brittany whimpered and instinctively slammed her hips down at the exact moment Santana ground hers up, eliciting a moan from Santana and Mike's full attention. Even the stripper dancing on his lap slowed to a stop and gawked at the drunken dry-humping action taking place just a few inches from them.

"Ladies!" Quinn cleared her throat while suppressing a laugh. "Why don't we get you into a cab?"

Santana looked up and nodded breathlessly while Brittany moved her mouth to suck on her neck and continued to move against her, making Santana's eyes roll to the back of her head.

* * *

><p>They spent most of the following day nursing a hangover in bed, only getting out of it to let the concierge in with their meals. Brittany felt terrible for not being able to sit through that night's entire performance but her head started throbbing twenty minutes in and she assured Santana she would lose her dinner if they didn't go back to bed.<p>

They had breakfast with the gang the next morning before parting ways. Santana still couldn't believe she was bringing Brittany back with her for good. She still wasn't convinced it was the wisest decision but Mike was right, if she wanted Brittany to be happy then she would have to trust her instinct. It had already gotten her so far without Santana's help.

On the plane ride home, Santana asked Brittany what her plans for the immediate future where once they landed. She listened in wonder as Brittany detailed a plan to get herself back in school to finish her Fashion Merchandising degree so she could start working on that dancewear line she and Mike had been talking about since moving to Vegas.

"Maybe you don't need school…"

"Huh?" Brittany looked up from Santana's shoulder, confusion etched in her features.

"I mean, you have a better fashion sense that anyone I know. You practically style Mike already. With the money the two of you are making from this gig you should have enough to hire a business manager to help you get started," Santana shrugged. "Instead of spending that money to go to school you should just use it to produce your line. No one can teach you how to design, Britt. You already know how."

Brittany smiled broadly, whether at the prospect of skipping school or because Santana was being supportive of the idea, she wasn't sure. "Will you help me?"

"Of course I'll help you. I wanna be a part of your everything if that's what you want. I'm all yours."

"All mine," Brittany repeated blissfully, closing her eyes and snuggling close. "For good."

END OF PROLOGUE.

(Up Next) Chapter One: Briana


	2. Revival of the Fittest

My dearest darling readers:

Are you still out there? This story still has 85 follows so I hope this message reaches some of you. I apologize for abandoning this story 3 years ago. Life got really crazy and somewhere along the way I stopped watching Glee and focused on my career. That doesn't mean I lost love for this story, just that I lost the motivation with which I'd been writing it. Out of curiosity I decided to take a look on here a few weeks ago and discovered a couple of new reviews made last year lamenting my abandonment. It made me nostalgic for it so I went looking for old files. What I found was nearly 30k words of unpublished story.

I spent countless hours writing them, it feels silly now not sharing all that work if people really want to know what happens. Since it's not completed, and my original plan was way too ambitious then and a bit discouraging now (I just don't realistically have the time) I've decided on a new approach in order to continue sharing this story with you all. Instead of writing 3 extensive chapters (the idea was to detail each important chapter of Santana's life, alas they spanned too long a period of time and I had trouble editing myself) I'll be starting a new series based on this prologue, which I've now re-titled **Daughters: Prologue** for cataloging purposes. The first in the series is now titled **Daughters: Briana** which is basically the original Chapter One split into normal-sized chapters, the first of which is up now.

My hope is that by changing the approach in telling it, my motivation to see this story through will be restored. After all, I do hate not finishing things and believe me, this thing bugs every 6 months or so and won't leave me alone. I know how awful it is to get hooked on a fic only to find out it's been abandoned. The neglect is so rampant within our fandom that I can no longer contribute! Also, in honor of our being lured back into the last season of Glee with vague promises of a happy ending, I'm mildly curious to see how much of this story ends up resembling the final product. Spoilers indicate there are at least some similarities in the gang's return to their hometown, although the character journeys are wildly different here as originally intended. Please remember that I began this story halfway through season 2 so it is very much an AU at this point, plus the new series has a childhood backstory which the show has since written otherwise. I hope that you enjoy and if you're kind enough to forgive me for abandoning you this long, please have a read and let me know your thoughts! I'd be so very delighted to hear back from you.

One Love,

g


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